


Signs

by angelview



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Addiction, Adopted Rey (Star Wars), After the Rain Comes the Rainbow, Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, And so is Leia, Angelview, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Crush, Bad Parenting, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Bazine Netal Being a Jerk, Ben Solo & Rose Tico Friendship, Ben Solo Loves Rey, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo and Rey are best friends, Ben and Rey Have A Secret, Ben can hear colors, Ben can see sounds, Ben is misunderstood, Best Friends, Bickering Leia Organa & Han Solo, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, But as friends - Freeform, Celebrities, Child Abandonment, Childhood Trauma, Chromesthesia, Condescending Snoke, Confrontations, Consensual Infidelity, Crush at First Sight, Custody Arrangements, DTR needed, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Diary/Journal, Divided childhood, Divorce, Divorced Han Solo and Leia Organa, Don't Like Don't Read, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Duet, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Epilogue, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Rey/Ben Solo, Everything Is Unresolved, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fame, Famous Rey (Star Wars), Fights, Finn is a Good Friend (Star Wars), First Love, First person Rey, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frenemies, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers to Enemies, Friendship/Love, Frustration, Good Friend Rose Tico, Good Parents Leia Organa and Han Solo, Gossip, Guitar lessons, HEA, Han Solo is a Good Person, Hate Kissing, Hate to Love, He gets sober though, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hook-Up, I Made Myself Cry, I promise, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sex, Inspired by Taylor Swift, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealousy, Leia Organa Knows Everything, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, Male-Female Friendship, Manipulative Snoke (Star Wars), Maybe - Freeform, Maz and Chewbacca, Mechanic Ben Solo, Mechanic Rey (Star Wars), Memories, Minor Bazine Netal/Ben Solo, Minor Poe Dameron/Rey, Miscommunication, Mistakes, Misunderstandings, Mixed Signals, More tags to be added, Music, Musical References, Musicians, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Non-Explicit, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not so secret though tbh, On-Again/Off-Again Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Ben Solo, POV Rey (Star Wars), Parental Chewbacca (Star Wars), Parental Maz Kanata, Passion, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcoholic Han Solo, Past Relationship(s), Past Underage, Petty Ben Solo, Petty Rey (Star Wars), Pianist Ben Solo, Pining, Platonic Relationships, Please Don't Hate Me, Plot Twists, Possessive Ben Solo, Possessive Rey (Star Wars), Pre-Relationship, Pretend to date to make someone else jealous, Protective Ben Solo, Protective Rey (Star Wars), Protective Rose Tico, Publicity, Reconciliation, Recovery, Regret, Rejection, Relationship Issues, Relationship Negotiation, Remember what Kylo Ren Said, Repressed Memories, Resentment, Rey & Ben Solo Friendship, Rey & Ben Solo are Childhood Friends, Rey Loves Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Romantic Gestures, Rumors, Sabotage, Secret Crush, Secret Past, Secret Relationship, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Separations, Singer Rey (Star Wars), Slow Burn, Slow Burn Rey/Ben Solo, Slow Burn Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Soft Ben Solo, Soft Rey (Star Wars), Song Lyrics, Song: Teenage Dream (Katy Perry), Song: exile (Taylor Swift ft. Bon Iver), Song: illicit affairs (Taylor Swift), Sort Of, Summer Romance, Supportive Finn (Star Wars), Symbolic mention of injury, Synesthesia, Teen Ben Solo, Teen Crush, Teen Rey (Star Wars), Trust Issues, Trust Kink, Undefined Relationship, Underage Kissing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unless...???, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voice Kink, What Have I Done, ang3lview, briefly, but it’s something, celebrity gossip, everyone knows it except for them, experimental angst, frenemies to lovers, friends with emotional benefits, happy ending guaranteed, is it infidelity if the relationship isn’t even real?, love to hate, minor Ben Solo/Bazine (only mentioned/implied), mutual breakup, non linear, or at least from their teenage years, signs - Freeform, that isn’t really a relationship, the author does not know what’s going on either, they don’t know what though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelview/pseuds/angelview
Summary: Ben and Rey have always walked a very thin line.
Relationships: (both platonic and romantic), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 65
Kudos: 63





	1. stolen stares

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrical references will be highlighted and sourced at the bottom note.

> Two months.

_That’s a long time, right?_

Two months, her producer Finn said in his latest email. Two months to construct and compose a range of fourteen to sixteen chart-topping, heart-wrenching, obnoxiously catchy songs for the record.

_No, that is most certainly not a long time._

But Rey didn’t allow herself to get too worked up about it. She vouched for this fifth record to be made; the timing worked and the fans had been snuffing out every move she made in search of clues that signaled new music was on its way. She was relieved all the necessary circumstances worked in her favor to get it done... so long as it’d be ready to be released by January.

She could do it. She knew better than to walk around with an empty pocket. There were quite a few loose choruses and potent verses saved for a rainy day, just bleeding their ink into her notebook as they wait to be cultivated into full-fledged songs.

There was also a solid handful of songs that were scrapped from the last record, put on the back burner because they didn’t quite fit with the fourth album’s theme and vibe.

_‘_ _The songs on the last one were bright pinks and blues; butterflies and raspberry lollipops; boat rides and ballroom dances. The songs that didn’t make the cut were cloudy gray and coffee brown; birds nesting in the trees and hot whiskey; runs through the forest and crying to yourself, alone in bed until your body melts into the mattress and the rapture of good sleep takes you._ _’_

That was how Ben described the difference, anyway.

‘ _But in the end, you always find yourself needing all of those things_ ,’ he added.

* * *

_You didn’t even hear me yell._

* * *

_“_ You’ll get it done,” Ben said nonchalantly as his shoulders raised in a shrug. Rey could feel his arms move against her own as she leaned on him. “You always see things through. You’re probably the most capable person I know.”

She huffed and shook her head. “You and I see myself in very different lights.”

He hummed. “I wish you’d see yourself as I do,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear.

Ben used to do that a lot. Said things under his breath and to himself. She’d call him out on the habit, slightly irritated that he mumbled so constantly. He’d say nothing in response for the longest time.

_‘Growing up, I felt like no one would listen. I’d say things, but it was just as well that I didn’t. No one cared.’_

_‘I care.’_

_‘I know you do.’_

He mumbled a lot less since then.

He got off his spot on the couch and stretched, extending his muscular arms overhead and anchoring his torso from side to side. The end of his shirt spilled out of his waistline, flashing Rey a glimpse of the smooth muscle that made up his stomach.

_Turn around_ , she scolded herself. She didn’t want to make things weird.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t _thought_ of Ben like _that_... but she never let thoughts evolve into action. She knew better than to ask for more than she knew she could get. It helped to keep life reliable. Safe. Predictable, even.

Ben was safe. He wasn’t going to risk anything with her, so she followed the tone he set. Or maybe he followed the tone she set. She couldn’t be sure which way it was, but it didn’t really matter, she supposed.

And the less she allowed herself to veer off the path, the less she succumbed to distraction. Because, really, both of them were well aware that she was in no place to be in a serious relationship. Trial and error, time and time again. The others always left, but she knew Ben would always be there; he _never_ left. And she wasn’t willing to do anything that may push him away.

So in that way— in an undefined yet solemnly understood way, he and she knew.

_‘You know it, Rey,’ he had told her as the rain poured and they found refuge under the trees a few autumns ago, ‘you know.’_

_She wiped her tears that’d mixed in with the rogue drops of rain, dripping down her cheeks. ‘That I belong. Belong with you.’_

_He nodded as he lifted his hands to her face, cupping her jaw with one and continuing to wipe the tears away with the other. ‘And I belong with you. Always.’_

Their relationship— _friendship_ , was just a compilation of moments like that. There were no defined lines, which allowed for the wild flow of indiscernable tenderness to radiate from one to the other.

But in moments like this, where she didn’t turn around quick enough from his face, those faded boundaries made things harder.

Because Ben almost instantly caught her eyes on him and his face soured into an incredulous sort of smirk. “What?”

His lips rolled together and his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, perhaps a subconscious display of discomfort.

Rey had to fight the urge to cringe. “Oh, sorry,” she shook her head and looked away. “I, uh... got lost in thought there for a moment.”

He chuckled flatly and moved to her kitchen. The sound of a soda can popped in the background and ice clinked against glass.

When he came back to the couch with two glasses full of iced ginger ale, he had hunched over a bit to set the glasses down. He glanced at her through the rogue strands of the black waves that hung around his face. He prodded his inner cheek with his tongue.

“What were you thinking of?” He asked somewhat shyly after a moment of mutual silence.

Rey shrugged. “Nothing. Just the record, I guess.”

“Oh.”

He squirmed a bit and nestled his large body to the very end of the couch, creating more space between the two of them.

_Probably for the best._

“How many songs do you have so far?”

She threw her head back against the backrest and sighed into her hands. She wasn’t wearing any makeup so there was no smear when she rubbed her eyes.

“I don’t know. Maybe eleven? Depends on what Finn thinks of the last one. If it doesn’t end up on the track list, I have another one I could possibly work on.”

“Which one?”

Rey groaned and reached for her glass. She took a full gulp, taking her time to drink; perhaps subconsciously trying to put off answering.

It wasn’t much, but it was a few bits that she came up with in August.

She told herself she wouldn’t talk about it with Ben because that was around the time he was casually dating her backup dancer Bazine, and she didn’t want to remind him of it since they had since broken up.

But she knew there was a significant part of herself that didn’t want to be reminded of it either.

“Oh, I didn’t really get to showing you that one. It’s just scraps right now.”

“Well I’d love to hear it, if you wanted to show me. I love the way you think... write... speak... sing, recite... all of it, Rey. I could listen to you talk all day, honestly,” he said while looking at down at his clasped hands spread across his abdomen.

It was when he said things like _that_ — those were the moments that she found herself replaying in her head later, trying to analyze their meaning and relevance. Or jotted them down in her notebook, to look at another time. When she needed to be reminded that Ben cared about her as a friend, at least.

Her stomach soured and her heart started beating faster. Now she _really_ didn’t want to recite those lyrics, not with him having just made her swoon and blush like that.

She sat up a bit and picked at the sparkly pink polish on her thumbnail. “Um... I mean, yeah. Yeah, you can hear them, I just... I don’t know. Not sure if I’m gonna do anything with them yet, so they may not be very good.”

His eyes fixed on her in the intense, devoted way they always did; the way that made her shiver and paralyzed her, too overwhelmed to meet his eye in return. She knew he didn’t mean to evoke that sort of response from her, and every now and then even commented on her lack of eye contact.

_‘Why don’t you look me in the eye sometimes, Rey?’_ _He used to ask._ _  
_

_She’d look away as she said ‘sorry. Just a habit.’_

_It still was a difficult habit to break, but she kept trying._

“If it’s from you, it’s _more_ than great.”

She bit her lip and finally swept her focus to him. “Ben, I...,” she paused.

_Adore you. Think the world of you. Want you. Need you._ _Love you._

“I... thanks, Ben. You’re truly the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He seemed to release a breath she didn’t notice he’d been holding and lowered his eyes back to his hands, now tensely clasped together. It was almost like something in his disposition shifted, but she couldn’t say for sure. Better not to think too much of it, though. She chose to believe it was nothing.

“Thanks,” he said with a quick nod. “Same here.”

Rey was glad she had the excuse to get up and go up to her bedroom to retrieve her notebook, not having to linger in whatever _that_ was.

She paused to check herself in the vanity’s mirror. She looked tired; the color under her eyes had darkened and her eyes were glossy. She wasn’t crying, but they stung as if she had. Her cheeks were pink but the rest of her skin seemed dull and sunken.

It could’ve just been her projecting though. The air that tightened her chest felt like a weight, dragging her innards down. Her shoulders ached and each swallow was salty. It was as if she had something looming overhead or something heavy hanging on her shoulders, causing her to sink into herself. It wasn’t necessarily a warranted response to something, but more of a _feeling_ that consumed her. It could only be described as just feeling _bad_. No specific cause or trigger. Just a feeling.

_But everything is temporary,_ she reminded herself as she turned her back on her reflection. _Including this._

Realizing Ben would probably be noticing her absence soon, she made her way to the shelf next to her bed. The notebook, bound in tough cognac leather that had a velvet mustard yellow bow wrapped around it, was in its rightful place at the corner that was closest to her bed. She thought about bringing the sparkly blue gel ink pen next to it, but decided not to. She didn’t feel like expanding on any of the verses right now. Maybe when Ben left and went home she’d get back to it.

Ben was rising from the couch as she had descended the stairs, back to the living room. His lips parted and eyes widened slightly, as if she caught him in the middle of something.

“Hey. Sorry, I, uh... sorry.” He then he sat back down. The TV had been paused on the scene that played as she went up to her room.

“Oh,” she looked around, unsure what to say. “No, you’re fine. Did you... did you need to get going?” She asked, tilting her head back toward the front door.

He pursed his lips and quickly shook his head. “No, no. Sorry, I was just... I dunno, gonna see if you were okay or whatever.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Sorry I took so long.”

“No, it was okay,” he insisted as she sat down on her end of the couch. “You didn’t take that long, I was just... being weird,” he said with a chuckle. “Sorry.”

She smiled at him and didn’t say anything else. She knew he’d be reassured by her smiling at him. That was just Ben’s disposition, so she was used to his constant apologizing. For him, it was a way of soothing himself when he felt awkward so she didn’t get on his case for doing it.

“So, um... these are just random, I suppose. I was in a sort of weird headspace at the time, so they’re a bit messy,” she explained as she flipped to the right page. “Do you want to read them?”

“I’m guessing you aren’t wanting to sing them.”

She shrugged. “I haven’t got a sound or rhythm for them. They’re just, like, maybe two or three verses I think. I’m not even sure how I’d use them if I write more.”

“Ah, I gotcha. Yeah, I’ll read them.”

She handed him the book but was immediately horrified as it changed hands; she forgot she wrote the date at the top of the page. There was a chance Ben wouldn’t make the connection, but it was slim. He noticed everything, it seemed. His attentiveness and thoughtful nature made him all the more lovable, but sometimes it led to him asking questions that had answers she didn’t really want to give.

This was one of those times.

Ben took his time mauling over the twenty words scrawled out on the discolored paper. She knew he was reading them over and over as she followed the movements of his eyes.

Top to bottom, top to bottom. Over and over.

She knew what was written on that page. One angry sentence about feeling like the person made her into a mess. Another bit about how they made her see colors that she couldn’t see with anyone else.

His lips curled into a fond smile and his thumb wiped delicately at the corner of the page where she had doodled. She was no artist by any means, but she tended to decorate her notes in little flowers and things like that.

He stared at the page for a long moment before his smile subtly morphed into a slight frown. He quickly caught himself though before handing the book back to her.

“Those were great. You just... you have this way of making me _feel_ what you’re feeling. And I don’t know if I’ve ever known anyone who has the effect you have on me... or anyone, I mean.”

She had to swallow the reactive expression of admiration that threatened to cover her face. He spoke and praised her so resolutely, as if it was a factual, unspoken law that all of mankind knew and abided by.

“Thank you, Ben. For saying that.”

“I’m not just saying that. I _mean_ it.”

Neither spoke for another moment and Rey hoped that meant they wouldn’t be talking about the lyrics anymore, but Ben pursued it.

“Who... uh. What... what are they about?”

His voice was soft and small, laced with something akin to concern. She figured he might ask that, though. He always did.

“Oh, just someone I was talking to then. I was feeling some type of way at the time, I guess.”

She could tell Ben was bothered by this, given the way his expression hardened. He probably sensed she didn’t want to get into it.

That’s how it was when it came to their respective love lives. She rarely inquired after his because she hated thinking about it, but in that way his approach was a stark contrast to hers. He _always_ asked about who she was seeing or if she was interested in anyone.

She figured it was his way of normalizing the topic between the two, probably wanting to have that line of conversation and trust facilitated between them. That or he wanted to make sure their boundaries were defined; Ben didn’t like surprises or secrets. He liked having all the details and mulling over things like that. She assumed he was just avoiding the possibility him finding out she was dating someone via Buzzfeed News or something. Maybe it was just his way of feeling involved in her life, signifying his importance to her.

Oddly enough though, whenever she had a new love interest, she noticed he’d pull away from her until it inevitability ended; she figured he didn’t want to be a threat to the potential suitor or give off the wrong impression.

Naturally, she did the same whenever she caught wind that he was seeing or talking to someone. She _never_ wanted details. He didn’t seem to think their friendship was a potential liability whenever he was in a relationship though, so he’d still seek her out and try to see her. She kept her distance anyway, though. She knew she wasn’t a threat to any of his partners, so it was more for her own sake.

She didn’t want to hear about how things were going. She didn’t want to hear how nice and fun the new girl was, no matter how eagerly he seemed to want to talk about with her. She especially didn’t want to see photos of them together, even if it was just a photo of them at the same event with a group. She’d go on social media breaks during these times. It wasn’t even the feeling of missing out that troubled her; she was always _invited_ to those events, but she never went.

When he’d ask her why, she would tell him she was just trying to keep a low profile and didn’t feel like bothering with the press. Her fans were familiar with the core members of her friend group. They knew she and Ben were best friends, and there was even a sub-group within her fandom that shipped her and Ben together. ‘Reylo’ was their ship name, apparently. She muted the tag eventually when it became too much, but she couldn’t resist the occasional impulse to check out some of the fan art and photo manipulations/edits people made of them. She was pretty sure Ben knew about ‘Reylo,’ but thankfully they never talked about it.

As much as she was flattered by it, she was selective about how much she wanted to share with the world when it came to Ben. She usually avoided going out in public with friends anyway; she was keen on keeping her professional and private life separate, which Ben seemed to accept. He used to ask if she was embarrassed to be seen with him, but she knew he was just joking around.

But privacy was secondary in this case. Seeing him show attention to someone else made her _ill_ , if she was being honest with herself. She knew she had no right to feel that way— she didn’t own him, he didn’t own her. They really didn’t have any obligation to the other, when it came down to it. But she couldn’t help it.

After going through so many years of loneliness, not having anything or anyone, finding Ben felt like a miracle. She went from having nothing to having everything, when it came to him. She’d never been loved like that. Even if it was a different kind of love than she had grown hungry for, she clung to it. She couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ — do anything to risk or lose it. And she was certain he wouldn’t either. They both knew better.

“Well those are some pretty heavy words to have for someone you were just talking to,” he said lowly, breaking her away from her thoughts.

All she could do was shrug with a half-smile that didnt reach her eyes. They both knew he was right and she wasn’t giving him the full story. But that had to be fine. That’s how it _had_ to be.

“They’re just words, Ben. Words can mean whatever you want them to in the moment. When I wrote them they meant something, and now...,” she trailed off, hating the way the following words were caught in her throat. “Not so much, I guess.”

He looked at her for a moment. She couldn’t quite discern his expression, but it made her uneasy nonetheless.

She hated feeling conflicted. Part of her was relieved that she put distance between him and her feelings; it was an act of self-preservation, done in order to protect herself. She dreaded the feeling of being vulnerable or exposed, and the fact that Ben always seemed to see right through made it worse.

But the other part of her was even more distressed that he seemed upset. It wasn’t like she was intentionally saying or doing anything that’d be hurtful to him; in fact, it felt like she was doing them both a _favor_ by maintaining that undefined boundary between them. So she couldn’t help but feel troubled by his reaction. She didn’t want to make him upset, but she felt there was no reason for him to be.

They finished the episode of _Ratchet_ in silence, only occasionally making brief commentary throughout the last thirty minutes.

“For what it’s worth,” he finally said before the credits rolled. “Whoever that was about isn’t worthy of such pretty words.”

She turned but for once he wasn’t looking at her.

She returned her focus to the screen. “You’re probably right,” she lied.

_I_ _f only he knew how worthy he is._

He helped her clean up the mini mess they made of snack wrappers and soda cans before he left. It was around 2 AM by the time he made his way out the door; he was leaving earlier than he usually did. It was probably for the best

They broke apart from their goodbye hug (a rigid one-sided hug) and Rey walked him to the door, but as he walked out he paused mid-step.

He turned back around and took a step closer to the doorway. His fingers ran through his hair and he prodded his inner cheek.

“Rey, I...,” he began before stopping. His eyes were casted to the ground and he swallowed before meeting her eyes. “I, uh. I had a good time tonight. With you.”

Her heart rose and sunk within the same beat. He was making it so difficult for her. But then again, everything he did made it difficult for her nowadays.

She tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I did too,” she murmured back.

He nodded, just looking at her in that smoldering way he always did. “I play piano.”

Her nose and eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Why would he blurt that out? She knew that. He might as well have announced that he knew how to drive a car as she looked at his car parked in the driveway. She’s heard him play piano numerous times before. Not only that, but music was something that consumed a significant chunk of their time and conversation.

Obviously.

“Yeah... and?”

He suddenly seemed flushed and winded. He kept combing his fingers through his hair and glanced all around. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Obviously you know that,” he awkwardly laughed. “I um... I was meaning to tell you, actually. I might have something for you. Just something I came up with the other day. It sorta reminded me of the vibe you’re going for with this record. If you want you can come by and hear it, or I can come by and play it for you. If you want, I mean.” _  
_

Despite his grand stature and masculine mystique, Ben had a way of coming across as very boyish at times. She couldn’t _bear it_ when he acted that way. The way he’d fidget nervously and ramble his words out with rosy cheeks made her absolutely melt like a love-struck school girl.

_I’m too damn old for this._

Even so, she was breathless and couldn’t hide the way she was beaming. The bigger her smile got, the bigger his got, as if her reaction was directly tied to his.

“Yes. Yes. Just... yeah. Yes. I’d love that. To hear you. It. Hear you play it.”

She shuttered slightly at the way her words messily spilled out, but Ben ignored it.

He gave her one of his beautiful smiles. Full rose-hued lips, perfectly imperfect gapped teeth, crooked yet luminous as it reached his eyes.

When he smiled at her like that, the place he occupied in her heart only expanded.

“Can’t wait,” he said before he finally did make his way to his car.

He waved goodbye as he pulled out of the driveway. Rey waved back before shutting the door behind her. Once it was was closed, she groaned while her back slid against its surface and she slumped down to the floor.

_Look at the idiotic fool that you make me._


	2. you wanna scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben sees and thinks in colors he knows only Rey will see as he practices his song for her.

F# major.

The first section, F# and C# major. Dark gray, toned with a slight sepia effect; it might even smell the way the street smells after it rains. The higher the notes went, finding its sound as his fingers lazily followed along the spectrum in his mind’s eye, the brighter it became.

The gradient of murky gray and warm brown slowly slipping into brighter white and yellow, like morning light trickling into a dark corner; the daylight found a place it hadn’t quite reached yet and became one with the dark, pulling everything into sight. He knew there were birds chirping their morning songs in the background.

In the middle, it was green. He could practically see it; smell it, the sharp, spiced smell of fresh pine. Moss green, with the undertone of pale mist weaved through all the spaces between. And among the mist, there was still the sunlight.

The colors grew higher in contrast— moss green now turning into forest green, and the sky went from pale blue to soft white; and from white to gray again.

The colors were alive, scattering out as the agression against the keys raged on. It was like the splatter of earth beneath his feet as if he were to be running in the forest, trying to outrun the storm brewing over head. He couldn’t move fast enough and kept trying to stare ahead, but kept finding his focus returning to hindsight.

_F#_ _—_ _F#/D#_ _—_ _F#/C#_ _—_ _F#/B_ _—_ _F#_ _—_ _F#/D#_ _—_ _F#/C#._ _  
_

_D_ _uh duh DUH DUH duh duh duh DUH DUH DUH duh duh._

_D_ _own down UP UP down down down UP UP UP down down._

_“_ Hear me _,”_ he sung under his breath in sync with the progression of the melody. It was getting darker and the rain ricocheted harder against his flesh, pounding sharply on his back. It was returning to the dark gray that it started with, made even livelier with the earth and air breathing out the way it was. _  
_

_H_ _ear me what?_

_“_ Hear me now... _”_

_N_ _o._

_“_ Hear me... hear me... _”_

A hard strike to the keys. He kept playing the same notes. F#/C# again and again. _  
_

“Hear me out...” _  
_

A harder strike.

“Hear me scream...” _  
_

_N_ _o, not scream._

“You didn’t... hear...” _  
_

_Didn’t even hear me._ _  
_

* * *

_I couldn’t turn things around._

* * *

With a full-chested sigh, he stepped away for now. The more he fretted over it, the more he’d likely ruin the basic integrity of the melody. He didn’t know why he was even trying to come up with lyrics for it; Rey would most definitely come up with something just as clever as it would be beautiful.

She could probably sing anything, even his mediocre ‘lyrics’ (if they could even be called that) and it would sound ethereal. Her voice, full and rich with the haunting element of silvery delicateness, makes everything sound wonderfully profound and captivating.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes anytime she sought out assistance or alternative input with her writing. He loved everything she did, but it was all the more special when it was _her_ words from _her_ hear in _her_ voice.

Maybe by coming up with lyrics was a subconscious endeavor to hear her say the things he wished he could.

That he was at his rope’s end, just desperate to be heard. That he was screaming to her, begging her to see it. See him. That all these things he did, he was just trying to give her a sign— any sign— that he was there. Waiting, wanting. That he’d always been there, waiting and wanting, lurking in the background in hopes of an opening.

But maybe she did see that. Maybe she was open. Jut not for him.

_When will it ever be enough?_

_When will I ever be enough?_ He corrected himself as he collected his notes off the music rack. He’d be seeing her soon so he wanted everything to be ready. She told him she’d rather come to his place because some of the usual stalker photographers and journalists were turning up in the area lately. She told him that when he had been over to her place the day before for brunch, something they did at least once a week.

_‘I wouldn’t want them to think you being here all the time means anything,’ she said with a laugh._ _  
_

_‘Right. Yeah, that’d be a lot more trouble than it’s worth,’ he said back, hating how little he was able to hide the anger in his voice._

_She stopped smiling and played with one of the loose strands of hair that hung along her cheeks. She considered him cautiously for a moment before just nodding and looking away._

_‘I, um,’ she began, still refusing to look at him. He couldn’t help but feel so ugly when she refused to look at him._

_‘Well, um. Kaydel said she has a friend she wants me to meet. He asked me if I wanted to get dinner sometime, and I was thinking about it.’_

_His jaw tightened and his eyes strained as he looked beyond, at nothing in particular at first. His eyes then landed on the grand Steinway set up in the corner near the window._

_The song._

_He wanted to spin around and yell. He had to scrunch his fingers into a fist at his side to keep the tension at bay. He wanted to reach for her hands and drop to the floor on his knees, begging her to not go on another vapid date with another shallow pretty boy bastard who just wants to be another name in her list of muses. Beg her to just give him a chance and he would do anything to be the one for her. He’d tell her he knows she doesn’t want to be in a serious relationship but that every time he has to see her get her time wasted by just another loser who’ll never love her the way he could, he wishes he could disappear. He’d implore her; why can she go on these stupid dates with stupid people but won’t give him the chance? He would say he’s sorry for ruining the friendship, and would swear on his life that if she’s put off by these words, he will never repeat them or even think them again. That’s how much he needs her. And he loves her._

_But instead, he went with his instinctive reaction._

_‘You totally should,’ he said with a smirk. ‘Maybe this one could be the one.’_

_She almost looked disappointed, but it was probably only because the hopes of finding the one made her nervous._

_‘I didn’t think of it getting that far,’ she said with a small voice. She nipped her bottom lip and held herself with both arms._

_‘Well, I_ _truly_ _hope it does.’_

He still doesn’t know why he said that. He felt the exact opposite way, and he knew how selfish it was. He should’ve meant it when he said that, but he really didn’t.

Of course he didn’t want Rey to get hurt or be unhappy; no matter how angry or petty he felt for his own selfish reasons, he’d feel so much worse if she got heartbroken over some asshole who never deserved the chance. He wished he could personally have a word with those people; not just former flames, but the hoard of fake friends and associates who’ve used her and hurt her. Who chewed her up and spat her out the moment they got their fill. Who tried to get their piece of the success they had nothing to do with.

_I’d get my knuckles bloody for her._

And maybe because he so strongly felt that whoever these unremarkable people she dated were not the ones for her, that was why he couldn’t bring himself to be happy for her when she got into relationships with them.

He knew it was probably hypocritical considering he’s been in his own fair share of relationships... but, as petulant as his reasoning felt... it just wasn’t the _same_. Plus, Rey didn’t even _care_ if he was seeing someone, which only made him feel crazier than ever.

Even that didn’t matter in the end, though. Just because Rey was most definitely the one for him didn’t mean _he_ was the one for _her_.

_Rey deserves the best,_ he thought while he chewed on his bottom lip and looked out the window. It was sunny outside, but had he not looked, he wouldn’t have guessed that. It felt cold and dull inside.

_So the answer to that is probably never._ _  
_

She was supposed to be going on that date tonight. She had reached out to him since but he didn’t reply. He knew that was just going to make things worse because it always did.

He didn’t need to be actively speaking to her to know how she was. It wasn’t even that her life was open to worldwide speculation given her status; he knew he could just ask Rose how she was doing and what was going on.

Rose was like a big sister to him and she was close friends with Rey as well. She could just keep him updated on Rey when he couldn’t bring himself to speak with her.

He was just so jealous. It coursed through his blood, practically. He’d never say a word because he didn’t want her to know just how needy he really was. But when it came to Rey, his emotions controlled him. It was like a fire was set ablaze in his gut and the black, potent smoke traveled up to his chest, cutting off the flow of natural air. The heat that radiated from the flames made everything inside feel hot and deadly.

And fuel was added whenever he was reminded he had absolutely no reason or right to feel that way. Rey didn’t belong to him; she might have said it before, but he knew better than to assume she was his to keep.

She was like a butterfly, free and lovely. She would choose to stay when she wanted, and leave all the same. And he could never own her fully. He knew the beauty of her would be dulled by obligation; it’d be against nature.

And he didn’t want to bring her down, as much as he wished she would stay.

In his mind, it was better for them both that he stay away while she was in a relationship. He constantly fought the urge to periodically text or call her to see what was going on, and he could barely ever bite his tongue when the opportunity to trash the newest candidate arose. When given the chance, he’d rip the person to shreds.

_‘They sound really stupid,’ he’d say if Rey mentioned that they didn’t understand a joke she told. ‘What an idiot.’_

_‘I wanted to go dancing but he doesn’t know how,’ she’d mention._

_‘What’s stopping him from learning? Why waste your time on someone who refuses to go dancing with you just cause they supposedly don’t know how to?’ He’d retort_ _in a huff_ _._

It was a low move and he knew it. So he stayed away. Even if she did reach out, which wasn’t as common as it would be whenever she was single. If he saw her somewhere, he’d do his best to get out of there ASAP. Or if she spoke, he’d pretend he didn’t hear as he made his way out the door.

And he felt his heart sink whenever he’d see the confused, lost look on her face whenever he did that. He hated making her feel bad, but in his mind, he was trying to give her what she wanted— space. And maybe by staying away, neither looking nor talking to her, he was able to ignore his own feelings and try to move on.

Which was laughable because the minute he caught wind that she wasn’t spending her time with anyone else anymore, he was right there at the front door, waiting to come in the moment they were on their way out.

Which he was fully prepared to the minute her date with this... Poe Dameron person... came to an end.

_If_ , he begrudgingly corrected, _it comes to an end._

He spent the rest of the night refreshing his phone for any updates. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo as far as feelings go, it’s like a 100% top level burn, but progression on said feelings... we’re in for the long haul with this one.
> 
> I don’t feel like i need to say this per se, but just let me be clear in case this is something that would need acknowledgment:
> 
> Ben and Rey don’t have a ‘healthy’ relationship with one another; they lack vital communication skills and both have their own ‘unhealthy’ way of dealing with their complex dynamic. I’m not encouraging this behavior; this is fiction. This is the story plot. Do not take it out of context or even out of the realms of fictional enjoyment. Don’t idealize these behaviors or assume I am by writing about them. I shouldn’t need to tell anyone here that it’s wrong to be passive agressive and extremely jealous/possessive when it comes to another person. And i mean this respectfully: if this sort of behavior troubles you, don’t read this. I have plenty of other fics that cover lighter dynamics so please do what’s best for you! It’ll only get more intense and stupider from here on out, so please use your right to not read it and respect my right to write it. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! Seriously i really do swoon whenever i get a comment. Hearing from you guys and knowing what you think is so tremendously encouraging and only makes me want to do better and do more, so please don’t underestimate how meaningful your words are to me.
> 
> Say hi to me on twitter!
> 
> www.twitter.com/ang3lview


	3. lie (a billion little times)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some insight into Rey’s friendly history with Ben.

**8 years earlier**

**_8 May 2012_ **

_Dear diary,_

_Today was my last day of school! Well, not technically last as in last EVER, but it was my last day of YEAR TEN. Or, I suppose around here I ought to call it ‘freshman year.’_

_Which makes sense then why I’m writing all this down— Maz gave me YOU as a graduation present!! You being a lovely, coffee-coloured, leather-y journal! Ive always enjoyed writing but it was typically done in an aged, scrappy Composition notebook that doubled as both my school notes and my personal thoughts. Not that I need to have a fancy, ornate book to be able to write or anything. Don’t get me wrong. The composition worked just fine for me. But having this lovely thing in my possession... I can’t quite describe it. I know it’s silly of me, but it makes me feel like someone really cares about what I think, and thus have given me something special to document what I think. Maz even called this ‘a special place to put your most special thoughts.’ And again, I know that I don’t need to have a pretty diary or anything to do that, but it feels like I’m being considered in such a nice way by having this. And it makes me feel like there might always be someone who cares to know how I feel and what I think... even if it’s just you, ominous figure that knows the secrets of all diaries._

_And that’s a wonderful start, I think._

* * *

**_10 May 2012_ **

_Dear diary,_

_Guess what?!_

_I got a job for the summer!!!_

_I get to go work with Chewie at the garage until the new school year starts! He and his bff, Han, run an old car restoration garage and they said I could help around the shop. I told them I could be put to work on the cars straight away but they said it might be better to start off with ‘simpler’ tasks, like supply-running or taking phone calls when they’re busy. BUT... Han told me maybe if I work toward it, I could assist on a few repairs after the first week of training! He told me not to tell Chewie this since he probably wouldn’t like it, but I figure there’s no harm in telling you, diary. Plus, he said it with that peculiar smile-wink he does whenever he’s being mischievous, so I’m sure Chewie will find out sooner or later... especially when he sees me sliding around under a car with grease all over my trousers!_

_Chewie really is a spectacular sort of person. He’s very protective of me, though. He and Maz are always checking in on me, making sure that I’m alright and not getting into any shenanigans. The other day I was taking a run around the neighbourhood and I just happened to lose my footing and tripped. I only got a small scrape on my face, and it was totally nothing serious!! But when Maz and Chewie saw it, Chewie swooped me up in his arms like I was a little baby and they were practically coddling and nursing me. Kept asking if I was sure I was ok and if my shoes were maybe in need of new laces, but I kept promising them I was just fine! And I promise I was! Nothing to worry about! I just then felt bad that they were raising such grief over me, really._

_Maz said something interesting, and maybe it explains a little why they get into such a tizzy over me. I don’t remember exactly what she said but it was something like “we know you’re made of strong stuff, kiddo. But just because we know you won’t break doesn’t mean we’re willing to risk you getting shuffled about. We see your value.” And I didn’t quite understand what they meant by that at the moment so I just said I did and went off to my room._

_But now that I think of it, I think it’s sort of like when you have a sculpture or something made of marble. That’s pretty strong stuff, but collectors don’t just throw it around idly. They take care of it cause it’s of great value or sentiment or what have you. And maybe that’s what she means. So I’m going to try to be more gracious and appreciative whenever they make a fuss. It’s just a weird transition from having no one give a hoot about me to now having two people constantly occupied about me and what I’m up to. And I think I love it._

_One thing I don’t love though is when they get on my case about boys. Every time I mention a boy, even if he’s just a classmate, they probe me on it. They always are asking me if I like someone or if I have any boys calling me or what have you. Which can be quite irritating because it’s just a reminder that boys won’t look at me left or right, up or down._

_There was this one boy earlier in the year though, but I didn’t tell them about him. Why would I? I knew it would never go anywhere and of course I was right about it. His name was Andrew and we shared the same math class and he would talk with me sometimes. Like ask for help or borrow a pencil or something. And he was soooo cute. He had beautiful eyes and was hilarious, so of course I was gone for him. But he liked someone else and wasn’t one for hiding it. He even said he loved the girl, so there really wasn’t much I could do beyond cry when I went to bed since he was the only thing I could think of, like all night. I wrote a song about it, actually... the lyrics are in one of my other notebooks, so maybe when I have some time I’ll jot them down in this book._

_But anyway back to my parents’ obsession with my pretend love life— wait. I just called them my parents. For the first time. On my own.... ah! I want to tell them, but that’d mean I’d need to tell them the context, which would mean telling them about Drew... ugh this is complicated. Ok, I’ll think of how to handle that situation and I will update you when I do._

_But ANYWAY (again!)!!! Maz was very stern with me when we were driving to the shopping mall for my new jumpsuit. It wasn’t like she was crossed with me in particular, I think, but just sort of off. Eventually she’s all, “has your dad told you about Han’s son?”_

_And because, you know, he didn’t, I tell her no. And she sort of clicks her tongue as she and I walk into Forever 21 (which was a waste of time— they sell mini skirts, not work suits hahah!), and then she tells me: “well Han has a son, he’s around your age or maybe a bit older. Anyway, he might be around the shop from time to time. I don’t know if he’ll be working there or just be around.”_

_And obviously I don’t know why she’s telling me this, and so I’m all like “oooookaaayyy....” and she huffs a bit and adjusts her glasses (which she always does when she’s flustered). She then says “well, he’s a nice boy but don’t go and become boyfriend and girlfriend all of a sudden. You’re both quite young and need to grow up a bit. Nothing’s wrong with being friends, but just try to hold off on any romance for now.”_

_And naturally I’m scandalized, like why would she think that??? Han is sort of like a dad to me too, so his kid would probably be more like an annoying relative or something. Plus, maybe when Han was younger he was nice looking but he’s always so silly and gruff, I can’t imagine his son being a catch. Probably just all nose and that sort of Picasso-like symmetry I’ve seen in Han. And I can’t help but think he’d be annoying, if anything. I doubt he works with cars much since he obviously doesn’t even live with Han or anything, so he’d probably just be very needy and bother everyone. Get in the way of my work._

_I hope that’s the case at least, because the last thing I need is for some hotshot boy to show up and act like he knows more about things than I do. That would definitely get in the way of my plans to be taken more seriously at work!! Especially if nepotism is at play!!_

_I mean, Chewie is the co-owner and he is my dad, but I don’t think that counts._

_And I didn’t even know Han had a kid!!! He never mentions him or the mother... maybe they’re divorced? I don’t know, all I know is I doubt I’ll even come across the son, assuming he is actually as dumb as I imagine him to be. Maybe when Han and Chewie are teaching me guitar on Tuesday and Saturday nights I’ll see him in the kitchen or something but that’s totally not a situation that would produce romance._

_And I actually tell Maz all this! Because she does NOT have anything to worry about and I want her to know it! But all she does is sigh and give me one of those curious looks and says “we’ll see if you’re still saying that when you meet him...”_

_“Mumz,” I start off. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but I’m not exactly the most eye catching either. Guys don’t notice me and I don’t notice them much either, so...”_

_But then it was actually quite sweet, when I said that. Because Maz stopped walking and put her hands on my shoulders, then held my head in her hands and regarded me for a while._

_“Rey, my sunshine. Anyone who sees you will know in an instance that the sun practically shines out of your ass. You are a true beauty, in mind and form. We’ll have none of that negativity, thank you very much.”_

_And I know I should’ve acted all mushy about it but I started absolutely losing it over the ‘sunshine out of your ass’ part. But I think it was better to defuse the intensity or whatever that way._

_So all in all, Maz and Chewie worry too much about things they ought not to. Since the fallout with Drew, I don’t think I’ll really find love again. I’m not ready for it. And I don’t think it’s just because of Drew. I think there’s something deep inside me that’s kind of afraid of getting in too deep with anyone or anything. And not just when it comes to having a boyfriend, it’s like a general grievance for me I think. I mean, I’ve been with Maz and Chewie for four years so far and I’m only now getting comfortable calling them ‘Mumz and Pawz,’ which isn’t even the actual way one addresses parents!! Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with me, but that just leads me into a dreadful mood so I try not to think too much about it._

_Writing is easier, though. Especially songs or poems or whatever, because even if the words are sad, maybe the melody will be pretty enough to distract from what I’m actually trying to say. Maybe then people won’t really know. And I think I might prefer it that way. That people don’t really know me._

_That no one does._

_And I can assure you, that will definitely include this Ben Solo guy._

* * *

_**19 May 2012** _

_Dear diary,_

_You know, it’s hard to get anything done when there’s a drop dead gorgeous boy around all the time._

_Believe me, I hate it too. It’s the worst._

_Ben Solo is the worst._

_I’ve been too mortified to even write about it here, hence the lapse in updates. It’s utterly shameful. He’s just... sooooooo GORGEOUS, it makes me sick!!! And he’s SO sweet, too. He’s kind of quiet but in a bashful sort of way. Not like the snotty boys at school at all. Like sometimes he’ll linger around and help pass me tools that I need to pass around. He doesn’t say too much but when he does it’s always asking me if I’m alright or if he can do something to help me. And I can’t help but forget what I’m doing whenever he’s around because he drives me so mad!!!_

_And I doubt he even knows it. I think he’s just nice, I’m sure he’d never like me that way. He’s 16!!! And I’m just barely 14, so I don’t think he’d ever look at me like that. I try to keep him at arms length because of that, honestly. The last thing I need is for him to think (or find out, I guess) that I’ve got a silly crush on him and him to just turn around and reject me... or laugh at me. I don’t know. I don’t know which would be worse, honestly. I embarrass myself in front of him plenty enough, I’m sure. So yeah, I plan to never let it get to that point with him. Never ever. Because that would just be too much, I think._

_I think his dad just told him he should be nice to me... but then again, he doesn’t seem to be particularly close with Han. Even so, that’s probably it. But still, a girl can dream... and oooh is he dreamy..._

* * *

_All this time._

* * *

Just as she expected, Rey woke up with quite a few notifications listed on her screen.

She made sure she didn’t get every single twitter and instagram notification, of course. Had she not adjusted those settings, she’d be getting thousands of notifications regarding her fans’ random activity and endeavors to reach her. And as much as she wishes she could interact with each one of them, weeding out the chaos would be nearly impossible.

It’d prevent her from seeing alerts that needed her response most urgently, and that morning was packed with those sort of alerts.

From latest to last:

  * **Ben (8:30 A.M.)**



You look happy.

  * **Amilyn Holdo (8:12 A.M.)**



Hope u had fun but we should talk to get ahead of this mess.

  * **Amilyn Holdo (8:01 A.M.)**



Did u see The Spy!’s latest headline?

  * **Kaydel (8:01 A.M.)**



OMG another cover lmao

  * **Kaydel (8:01 A.M.)**



You guys look cute tho!

  * **Ben (7:20 A.M.)**



Ah. Just saw the mag. Looks like it went great.

  * **Mumz (7:12 A.M.)**



Nvm just saw the PAPS pix

  * **Mumz (5:34 A.M.)**



Send pix of date pls

  * **Mumz (5:33 A.M.)**



We need bagels

  * **Kaydel (1:29 A.M.)**



How did it go with Poe????????

  * **Ben (12:15 A.M.)**



How was the date?

  * **Poe (12:12 A.M.)**



Hey had a great time, hope I can see you again sometime :) **  
**

  * **Ben (12:05 A.M.)**



Hey :) how are you?

Rey’s morning yawn was replaced by a groan. She figured her date would be documented and publicized; all of them were, really. She just didn’t necessarily feel like dealing with the aftermath, especially first thing in the morning.

It wasn’t just the press she felt put off by, though she definitely was a bit crossed upon thinking of the process ahead.

It was Ben and his unanswered messages that troubled her. She was divided between wanting to put him off until later on or acting on the inner need she had to call him immediately.

He was a bit off when she mentioned this date to him. It wasn’t like he said or did anything that’d signify any negative feelings about it... in fact, he seemed happy for her.

Almost.

It was the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Or the lingering stiffness in his voice as he offered her encouragement. The way he became hesitant to look at her as he left.

But then again, maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part.

If she did call him, what would she say? What would he ask? Would it be as it usually was, where she told him the date was just fine and a long moment of silence would follow? Or maybe it’d be like the times she divulged a few spare details, causing Ben to respond with his back-to-back questioning?

_‘What was he like?’_

_‘Did he seem like he was looking for something serious?’_

_‘Could you see it get serious with him?’_

_‘Does he make you happy?’_

It was always that last question that gave her pause. And the answer she gave in return filled her with guilt.

_‘Sure he did.’_

Because it was always a lie. It wasn’t that these passing fancies made her _unhappy_ ; they were always respectful at the very least and showed her a good time. And if they were hiding their true colors, usually those hues wouldn’t show until the relationship progressed.

But what if this time, it wasn’t a lie? What if she told him there was something about Poe that _did_ make her happy?

What would he think if she told him the truth this time? That Poe was perfectly charming and warm? He held her eye when he spoke? He didn’t pretend to be something more than he was? That he listened to her and cared what she had to say? That when she was around him, even if it was just for moments at a time, her mind— her _heart_ — was able to take a step away from Ben, for the first time since she’d known him?

_Would I feel more guilt than if I were to lie?_

Instances when lies turned into truths were few and far between for Rey. It was the nature of life in general, really, for lies to become even more blatant as they migrated away from truth.

Like whenever she told herself she didn’t actually care what Ben thought of her and what she did— _who_ she did.

But if _this_ lie, that she was _happy_ , could actually become true, maybe _that_ lie would also be made into truth one day.

Because for Ben, it was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo at this point this story could be anywhere from 10-20 chapters... maybe??? 
> 
> Song references:
> 
> Teardrops on My Guitar by Taylor Swift
> 
> Gorgeous by Taylor Swift 
> 
> exile by Taylor Swift (feat. Bon Iver)
> 
> illicit affairs by Taylor Swift


	4. saving face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben have some catching up to do after her date with Poe Dameron has gone viral.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Hey, it’s me. Sorry I didn’t get to texting you back last night. I woke up a bit late this morning too.”

Ben chuckled. “S’fine.”

“Right.” Rey swallowed as her eyes scanned the room. Her loft wasn’t big, but for some reason she woke up feeling very small in comparison.

“So...,” Ben dragged on.

“So, yeah. I, um... it was good. Normal. Nice. He’s, uh... he’s nice.”

Ben then swallowed, and made a sound akin to a breathy, hollow laugh. “Yeah? Well that’s just great, Rey. He, uh... yeah. He looked nice. You looked like you were having a good time.”

His words sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Yeah! Yeah, I was. We had a nice time. Went to the park, took a walk, which thankfully stayed more low-key than the dinner that followed, but uh... it was very nice, actually. He’s a good, friendly sort of bloke. I think you’d get on well.”

Rey could practically see Ben’s face; he smirked and huffed, almost in disbelief, but quickly sobered. “I’m sure we would. What, erm... what do you like about him? Aside from his ‘friendliness.’”

“Um... I don’t know, I just liked him I suppose.”

“Rey,” Ben implored, clearly unsatisfied. “How do you not know? You were with the guy all night, and you two seemed to be very happy together. Obviously there’s something he’s doing that you like.”

Her brows knitted and she gritted her teeth. It was moments like that that made furry boil in her bones and impatience bubble in her belly; what did Ben expect? Some sort of grand list of Poe’s qualities or some kind of written review?

She couldn’t help but exhale sharply, not even bothering to hide her annoyance. “Bloody hell, Ben, I don’t know? I mean, he was polite, charming, thoughtful... all the good things. I mean, what do you expect? Like yeah we spent time together but it’s not like I got his whole life story down.”

“Oh, that’s all? I don’t know, Rey, I mean you’re always saying you’re not looking for something serious and yet you’ve already got pictures of you two plastered all over the place. What’s that about? I’m just saying, I’d assume if you were gonna jump the gun and flaunt this guy around you’d know if you really liked him or not.”

“First of all, I did not plaster any photos! Some people saw us and they wanted to take a photo with me, which happens pretty much any time I step out. Obviously people took photos of us, that’s just what happens. I did not go out of my way to show anything off.”

Rey knew she probably shouldn’t say what was on the tip of her tongue, but her frustration overpowered any restraint she might usually have.

“People would always take pictures of you and me. _God_ , Ben, there’s a small division of my fans that are dedicated to manifesting our _perceived_ ‘relationship!’ They are _obsessed_ with it, for whatever _bloody_ stupid reason, and yet I don’t hear you saying anything about that!”

Even though it was probably only a handful of seconds between her challenge and his response, it felt like ages. Maybe it felt like ages for Ben too, because Rey could hear his breath catch, as well as the smallest sounds of uncertainty on the other side. She imagined he was probably raking through his hair like a madman.

_He’s so typical._

“Huh. Well maybe that’s because it’s _stupid_ , just like you said. _They’re_ stupid for thinking it. And it won’t _ever_ happen. I know it, and I assume you do too.”

If words were weapons, what he just said made Rey feel like acid was being poured overhead and her mouth was filled with venom.

“Oh, I do,” she insisted. She hoped he wouldn’t notice the way her voice cracked and had gone up an octave higher. “ _Trust me_.”

It shouldn’t bother her so much. She _knew_ he was right and had no reason to think or say otherwise. Even if she wanted him to say otherwise, it wasn’t like she would be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t fair to want it both ways. It would never happen; it _could never_ happen. And yet she could already feel his words melting into her flesh, already on their way to becoming scars.

It made her feel helpless. Helpless because she knew there was nothing that would be of use in easing the hurt. It wasn’t like he was lying and help would come in the form of him taking it back, instead telling her the truth—that there really _was_ something more there and he was tired of pretending there wasn’t.

And perhaps that made it hurt even more; he wasn’t pretending.

_Maybe I should stop, then_.

“Rey,” he sighed out, using her name as an unspoken implore. “Baby?”

_Baby— An implore to be reasonable. Face the facts._

“Yeah?” Her response was just above a whisper.

He could probably hear the brokenness in her voice because he then clicked his tongue and sighed again.

_He’s pinching the bridge of his nose._

“I... I don’t know. Sorry I asked about it. I just... I just want what’s best for you. That’s all.”

_That’s all. Nothing more._

She nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s just... it’s a lot right now. I wasn’t planning for this right now, and so I just want to keep my focus on the record until it’s done. I’m just,” she stopped speaking to prevent the audible hiccup caught in her throat from coming out. “I’m just... I’m _tired_. And I haven’t even really started anything, have I?”

It came out as a chuckle and Ben followed with a chuckle as well, but she was sure he knew she wasn’t really laughing. “I think you’ve done a lot. You always do. You never cease to amaze me, kid.”

She shuttered at that. His voice was so heavy with sweetness and affection whenever he called her that. He used to call her those names all the time, but as time passed it became less frequent; that made the times he did all the more meaningful, though.

She wanted to tell him to stop calling her that, but couldn’t bring herself to. Because if he listened, she’d miss it too much.

“‘ _Kid_ ,’ huh?”

He was smiling now. “Yeah. You’ll always be the Kid. Baby. Sweetheart... every good thing.”

Her lips were quivering without letup and her chest hurt with all the nasal pressure, evoked by the tears. “Yeah,” she whispered back.

“Are you okay?” He could definitely tell that she was crying now.

She shook her head.

_No, I’m not._

“Yes. Yeah, um... sorry, yes. Just overwhelmed. I’ll be over it after I have some coffee.”

“Ha. Coffee fixes everything,” he added lamely.

“Yep,” she exhaled, now eager to get him off the phone. “Say, I, uh... I’ll text you in a bit. Amilyn’s been trying to reach me, so I better get to it before Leia comes for me.”

“Oh. Yeah, definitely. Mom is a ruthless one.”

“It’s her job, Ben.”

“Most of the time, anyway,” he scoffed.

She closed her eyes and swayed her head from side to side, hoping to crack her neck. “I’ll talk to you later, Ben.”

“Okay, yeah. Text me or something. Bye, Rey.”

The sobs were seconds away from coming in earnest. “Bye, Ben.”

She really should be calling Amilyn back, but that would have to wait until the sobbing subsided a little bit.

* * *

_There is no amount of crying I can do for you._

* * *

Ben had been lying on his sofa with his forearm covering his eyes as he tried to digest what just happened.

Everything about that conversation made him feel sick. He felt sick when he saw those photos of her and Poe, felt sick when she wasn’t responding to his messages, felt sick that she had something positive to say about the date... but most of all, he felt sick from making her so upset.

It was a vicious cycle. He’d be so angry and jealous and he’d act out, mad at her for something he knew he couldn’t be. He’d then have a tantrum like some sort of out-of-control child, not interested in concealing his rage and hurt. And then, he’d get exactly what he was essentially asking for— he’d push her away and hurt her. It was _always_ like that. He felt like he was watching himself from outside his body in those moments; he _wanted_ to stop himself, but his neediness and impulsivity was deafening. He couldn’t reach his senses in time. The feeling of guilt and self-hatred that followed his words and actions was too slow in recollection.

And on top of that, he still was still weighed down with perceived betrayal.

His lips pursed. He tried to steady his breathing, causing each inhale to roll through his shoulders and each exhale to puff out his chest.

_How could she do this?_

_What’s wrong with me?_

_Oh, yeah, cause her finding happiness is an act of betrayal to you._

_Why can’t I be enough?_

_Oh, you know why. You know exactly why._

He could feel himself being needy. Needy for her attention and affection. And he had it, but not the way he wanted it.

But at the same time, he really wasn’t doing anything to attain it.

He resorted to pursuing petty, impulsive goals because they were safer to go after. He could offer his generous scrutiny of each one of those assholes who tried to mess with Rey. He could offer her his unwavering dedication. He could get back at her for making him feel so utterly rejected by having one of these fits that would result in her feeling as bad as he did.

But pursuing her? Being honest with her? Fighting for her, not with her?

He was too insecure. Too selfish.

Too afraid of the risk.

‘ _Ben, why are you making this weird? I never gave you any sign that I wanted this with you. How have you not taken the hint yet?_ ’ He could practically hear her say it.

‘ _I’m not looking for anything serious right now. How many times do I have to say it?_ ’

And that would be it. He’d be in exile; she’d be seeing him out.

Because he wants something she has made perfectly clear that she’s not going to give.

_Having a taste has left me starving._

_But the piece I have’s gotta be enough._

Sometimes he got more than a taste, though. Sometimes she let him devour her, take her in and have her entirely. Really, it was _she_ who consumed _him_. And it made him believe, even just for a moment, that maybe he could have more. Maybe she was waiting for him, too.

And, he realized, there might always be that part of him that would wait for her.

* * *

**_May 26, 2012_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_Ben was at the garage again today, and he was so sweet!! Today I wore the same type of work suit that both Pawz and Han were wearing, and we were all working on an old Chevy Impala, so just our legs were hanging out. But Ben somehow knew which one was me! I’m pretty tall I think so it would probably be easy for him to confuse me for his dad, but he sort of lightly tapped my leg with his trainer and was all, “hey, kid.”_

_I know I should be crossed that he called me ‘kid.’ Because I am definitely_ _ not _ _a kid! Sure, I’m younger than him but I’m not a child... or if I am... well, then, he is too. But I don’t know, I think it sounded_ _quite_ _sweet, the way he said it. He has a pretty deep voice. He sounds much more grown-up than any of the boys at school did. There’s a teensy trace of ‘boy’ in his voice, like sometimes it comes out in cracks, but overall it’s very masculine and seductive. I think one day he might be sexy, even. Ah, even writing that makes me blush!_

_I_ _f you ever see this, grown up Ben, I’m sorry for scandalizing you! Hehe :P_ _  
_

_During the lunch hour he was eating his sandwich around where I was set up with mine_ _. I think it was turkey, but that could just be cause he strikes me as a turkey man. Anyway_ _he lingered around a bit before finally coming up and talking to me. I thought he might have wanted to talk to me because he was hanging around even though his dad was in his office, but I wasn’t quite sure._ _  
_

_Anyway, he saw my diary (yes, I do take you to work!!) and asked me what I write in there. Of course I couldn’t show him any of this, so I told him I like to write little sentences and song lyrics sometimes. And at first I thought maybe he might think that was_ _odd_ _, cause it’s not like I’m a musician or anything, but he seemed to think it was cool! He asked me about music, like what kind I like and etc. And I told him and apparently we like a lot of the same things!!_

_He asked me if I ever sing (since I write songs, obviously) and I said yes but only words. I mentioned that Pawz and his father were helping me learn guitar though so I could come up with some melodies for my lyrics, and he said that was cool and that he played piano! He knows guitar too but he finds piano easier to play._ _Which makes sense, since his hands are so big. He’s big. But anyway,_ _I asked if Han taught him and he got a bit shy, saying that he taught him guitar but it was his mum who taught him piano._

_I asked him where his mum was, anyway, but I probably shouldn’t have because he seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it. He said she’s working though and that was why he was with his dad during the summer. And, because I clearly didn’t pick up on the signs of his unease, I asked him where she works and if she lived close by. He was still very nice but he seemed a bit sad, and told me that she works at ‘some big company’ based in California... so pretty far away._

_I wonder if Han and Ben’s mum met through music, since Han knows a lot about it and apparently Ben’s mum knows a bit about it as well. It would be a laugh if Ben and I ended up together and it was our mutual love of music caused it... haha! But I know it’ll never happen, so don’t worry. No false hopes here._

_I think he might know that I’m adopted though because he didn’t ask me about my parents. I think his dad must have told him, but I don’t look anything like Maz or Chewie so I doubt he would have trouble figuring it out on his own. And, of course, the accent is a solid hint as well._

_I’m glad he didn’t make me talk about it. I feel bad for making him, though. I’m going to make a mental note from here on out to avoid talking about his parents... especially his mum._

_Talking about my_ _real_ _mum... whoever she was_ _... and father, for that matter_ _... makes me uncomfortable so perhaps it’s_ _the same_ _for him._ _I want him to keep talking to me, so I won’t say things that might make him stop._

_I_ _’ll just have to pay better attention to his signs._

* * *

Rey picked off her nail polish while she waiting for Amilyn to let her into the Zoom meeting.

The beep notification went off and the screen showed four panels: a bare-faced, tired-looking Rey, sleek and serene Amilyn, a sympathetic-looking Finn, and, of course, Leia— put-together and charming as always.

“Good morning,” everyone greeted at once.

She knew the ritual of niceties would only last a few minutes, but Rey really just wanted to get this meeting over with already.

“So, Rey,” Amilyn began. Even though she was addressing the camera of her computer, Rey could feel Amilyn’s full focus on her. “About last night...”

“Yeah, um... I mean, it was just a date. Nothing big.”

Amilyn nodded as if she bought it while Leia and Finn watched the interaction in silence.

“Right, of course. No worries, babe. So glad you went out and met someone! He’s definitely dreamy,” she cheered.

_I’m sure you’re real glad, Amilyn._

“Um... sure, yeah, it was, uh... it was nice.”

The other three nodded. Finn shifted nervously as if he were trying to gage the general reaction; Amilyn didn’t break eye contact with Rey, and Leia just showed that usual, understanding yet firm consideration she always did whenever she and Rey interacted.

“So, the thing is,” Amilyn finally got to it. “While I’m sure everyone here is absolutely delighted that you’ve met someone, we have to consider what this means as far as the press goes.”

Almost like she read her mind, Amilyn shifted her eyes to the side. “Finn is here to give us some feedback as far as how this will work against— or _for_ — the record, and Leia is here just to oversee things and act as a coach for our game plan.”

Rey knew Leia’s presence was standard for these types of situations, but she still felt a degree of discomfort. It wasn’t like Leia ever got involved in her and Ben’s friendship, let alone showed any of the unmerited hard feelings her son did, but she was put off nonetheless. Maybe it was in the eyes— Ben had his mother’s eyes. Those eyes that almost always saw things about a person no one else did. Eyes that were always searching and seeking and weighed heaviest.

Amilyn continued.

“Originally my thinking was that we ought to shut this incident as fast as possible.”

_Huh. My love life is just an ‘incident.’_

“I mean, you haven’t been spotted with anyone in a long time and that’s been good for us. I know you like things to be kept low-key anyway, so I figured it’d be best for everyone, you know?”

“Sure,” she nodded in agreement. Technically Amilyn was right, but the wording ofher comment only served as a reminder of the past’s failed romantic endeavors. How those endeavors ended up burning her, making her feel like she would always be better off alone.

She tried not to go down that line of thinking because it usually led to a dark place.

Amilyn looked pleased with her acknowledgement. Usually Rey would say something to the effect of defending those choices, but she just didn’t have that fight in her today. “Right. But then I remembered a conversation between Leia and me, a little over a week ago. It was after our meeting about the record’s progress. We were saying that perhaps it’d be a good look for this one if you were seeing someone. Maybe give the impression you’re a bit more settled and have really...,” Amilyn looked up and clenched her hands together, “really matured as a songwriter. This album can come from a place of wisdom; trial and error, really. Wouldn’t you say that’s a bit of a theme throughout the tracks thus far? Rey? Finn?”

Rey focused on Finn, electing to let him answer this one. She wanted to buy some time to come up with a response because that whole bit left her a bit speechless. The idea of Amilyn and Leia talking about her behind her back shouldn’t be anything new to her, but she recoiled at the notion anyway. Especially since they were clearly talking about her love life and her evident reputation of, what they obviously consider, immaturity and instability.

Finn had been looking at her too with a somewhat guilty, hesitant expression before finally answering. “Um... well, all these years I’ve been working with Rey she’s displayed nothing but exceptional talent. She’s always been gifted in expression and depth, so I wouldn’t say this record is something unexpected...”

_Sweet Finn, ever loyal._

“But, um... well, I guess you could say this one has themes that pertain to a more... well, maybe ‘older’ crowd, I’d say? It’s definitely got a seasonal element too. Very on-brand for winter, you know, like bonfires and cottages and all that good shit. It’s got a lot going for it, just like all the other albums do.”

“Oh, certainly,” Amilyn agreed. “But the thing is, I—“

“Amilyn,” Leia spoke up. “May I?”

Amilyn’s eyes were wide and thin lips parted but she nodded and backed down.

“Our dear Rey is golden. Truly, Rey, I’ve never worked with such a wonderful artist. Your talent and skill are so clear in everything you do, and please don’t ever think I question you. I know you. _My son_ knows you. But the public only knows so much, some of it by our choice, some not. You do things that every twenty-something does, and it’s not your fault that those things are printed in the magazines. God, if I was where you are at twenty-three...,” she paused, lost in recollection for a moment before shaking her head. “But regardless, that’s the way it is and we just have to deal with it.”

It should’ve made her feel better, but what Leia said only made Rey feel worse. She couldn’t show that, though, so she just put on a smile and nodded. “Thank you, Leia.”

_I wonder if Ben talks about me to his mum._

“I couldn’t agree more,” Amilyn added.

“Same here, Peanut.”

“So basically what this means, Rey, is that as your publicist I think it’d be in your best interest to pursue this thing you’ve got going with Dameron. He’s sweet, likable, clean-slate reputation, and looks good with you. Stick with him. He’ll be good for you and the baby.”

“The baby?” Finn asked.

“The album,” she clarified. “He fits the vibe and fits right in with where you’re at.”

Rey felt the sudden need to look to Leia, but Leia was just looking down with an indiscernable expression on her face. She was always so cool, keeping a steady hand on whatever was going on, so that might have been the first time Rey had ever seen her look so off.

“Well, Amilyn, I see where you’re coming from but I’m not sure where it’ll go with Poe. We did only meet once, and he was delightful, but I don’t know if I see a definitive future, per se.”

Leia looked up at that but Amilyn spoke first. “Well that’s fine! That’s quite alright, Rey. We spoke with Mr. Dameron’s agent and there’s no long-standing obligation there. He’s happy to help us out whether you decide to pursue a relationship with him or not. He’s certainly going to benefit from this arrangement regardless, so his agent and I figure we’d leave the personals for you two to sort out.”

Amilyn was phenomenal at her job. When it came it came to the press, she had this magical ability to make things happen just as easy as she could make them disappear. Rey knew her plan— with Leia’s blessing, apparently— probably would be the best thing for her and the record.

And the record was what had to come first.

“Okay,” Rey blew out. “Alright. I’ll talk to Poe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments!!
> 
> Feel free to say hello to me on twitter!
> 
> Www.twitter.com/ang3lview
> 
> All comments, shares, bookmarks, and kudos are noted and appreciated :))


	5. lullabies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw: implied/past mention of alcohol and drinking 
> 
> Did y’all check out evermore yet because... *a single tear trickles down my face*

Ben didn’t know why he saved all those photos throughout the years. Ben wasn’t one for clutter and collecting, so why he kept a Manila envelope full of old, blurry photos was a mystery to him. He normally wasn’t the sentimental type.

He didn’t like having his picture taken, especially when he was a teenager; he felt like his nose was the centerpiece in all portraits after he got the sense to grow out his hair, thus removing focus from his large ears; not that they weren’t visible, but it wasn’t as bad as it used to be. But there was just something about them he felt profuse attachement to.

Han was always busting out the Polaroid camera without any warning, so in that way Ben had anticipated it. He figured it was his father’s way of being sentimental, maybe making up for lost times. Usually the photos were a bit out of focus and blurry, or the lighting was off and thus made the coloring seem a bit surreal and the subjects looked unnatural. They were the photos most would toss into the outtake/reject pile, but Han kept them anyways.

And Ben kept the best ones— or, at least his favorite ones— for himself, in an upcycled old toolbox on the top shelf of his closet.

Sometimes he liked going through them. When he did, he sat on one of the sleek black leather armchairs across from his California King bed while whatever record he popped in played through the speakers. He’d put the old red toolbox on the coffee table between the two chairs and pull out a photo at random until he went through them all.

Whenever he came across an especially dated Polaroid that focused on a young, bright Leia Organa, he immediately put it back without giving it a second thought. He didn’t know why his father kept them, let alone why he himself did either.

In that moment though he was looking for a specific picture and didn’t linger on any other photos until he found the one he had in mind.

It was probably the first photo taken of Rey and him together, taken a couple weeks or so into that summer.

He recognized his own handwriting on the bottom white frame.

**_‘Rey and me, dad’s garage_ **

**_06/01/2012’_ **

He wasn’t one for smiling in his photos, so he didn’t. Rey, on the other hand, was caught off guard as usual but still looked beautiful, despite the expression.

She had food in her hands. _Typical Rey behavior,_ he thought with a smile.

He delicately traced a thumb over her frame. She had been wearing a blue shirt under her work suit. She tied the top half around her waist so the bottoms looked especially baggy on her.

She was flushed from working all day. She was a sight to see: she was a bit shorter then (maybe 5’5 or so) and a bit wiry, so seeing her scramble under cars to hold the flashlight for Han and Chewie or run from one end of the garage to the other to snatch a certain wrench looked funny. She was the smallest thing there and yet had the integrity and confidence of a seasoned pro.

She was a bit mean to him when he first met her. Despite being over half a foot taller than her, Rey looked over Ben and her cheeks would puff out with an incredulous scoff.

He remembered the ride home with Han after the first day at the garage for the summer.

_“So what’d you think?” Han asked over the low hum of Johnny Cash playing from the speakers._

_Ben just shrugged before leaning back and folding his skinny arms. “It was fine.”_

_He met his father’s shady eyes in the rear-view mirror. “What’d you think of Rey?”_

_He hesitated for a moment. “Rey? Who’s Rey?”_

_He was lying of course. He remembered sounding out her name a few times after they were introduced and she couldnt see; he never met a girl named Rey and he couldn’t help but think it suited the little rascal girl. He liked saying it._

_Han chuckled, clearly aware of his poorly-executed indifference. “You know, the kid. The little gal we’ve got working with us. Your uncle Chewie’s kid.”_

_“I thought she’d be younger for some reason. The way he and Maz would talk about her made it seem like she was a baby.”_

_“To them she is,” Han sighed with a roll of his shoulders. “Been through a lot. I think they’re trying to make up for it.”_

_Even though Ben was vaguely aware of Rey’s circumstances and knew they were different from his own, he couldn’t hold back a slight flinch and eye-roll. It got tiresome, seeing one adult constantly try to make up for the misgivings of another. It lost its merit overtime._

_He didn’t want to share that observation with Han, though. It would lead to a conversation neither really wanted to have, and would thus be an unfortunate way to start yet another long summer stuck together while his mother was off doing who-knows-what in who-knows-where._

_Plus, in his heart, it wasn’t like he really could blame Han for it._

_“What, um...,” he started as they pulled into Corellia Pie Shoppe’s parking lot. Han put the car in ‘park’ before turning his focus to Ben._

_“What’s her story, anyway? I only know the bits you’ve told me here and there.”_

_Han nodded thoughtfully while he tapped the steering wheel with his fingers._

_He finally stopped wearing the ring, Ben noticed._

_“I’m not completely clear on all the details, to be honest, kid. I know she was kinda just dumped as a little baby. They think her parents drank, maybe. And, um... I guess she bounced around the system for a while.”_

_Ben’s chest tightened. He envisioned a rainy, gray orphanage like the kind depicted in movies, and he imagined Rey as a little baby wrapped up in a wicker basket or a bundle of rags as her strung-out parents left her on the stoop before knocking and running away. He knew it probably wasn’t exactly like that, but the ambience would’ve suited the weight of the situation._

_His brows knitted as he thought more of it. “Where’d the English accent thing come from?”_

_“That’s where she’s from. Maz and Chewie went on a trip to England five years back and I guess the Bed and Breakfast they were staying at was run by whoever Rey’s foster was at the time. Maz thought she was the daughter of the owner but they told her they were just fostering her and she’d be off to the next after that summer was over.”_

_“So they decided to what, like, sneak her in their suitcase bring her back with them?”_

_Han smirked. “She’s not a bottle of gin, Ben. It was complicated, I’m sure. They had to jump through a lot of hoops to get the little one over here, so there was about a year’s wait in between. Had it not been for Chewie’s imposing presence and Maz’s hellbent determination, it probably would’ve taken a lot longer.”_

_Han withdrew the keys from the ignition and the two of them stepped out of the car and headed into the Pie Shoppe._

_They started all their summers like this so far. Han would schlep Ben to the garage the day or so after he flew in, and would take him to pick up a fresh pie after the workday was over._

_Four summers of this were behind them by that point. Blueberry pie. Apple pie. Strawberry pie. Key lime pie._

_This would be a peach pie summer._

_Ben decided not to ask anymore about Rey’s past. He hated whenever his parents would talk about him behind his back, which they constantly did, so he figured Rey probably wouldn’t like it either._

_Instead, he elected to ask about the way Rey was earlier that day._

_“So what’s her deal, then? She was kinda snotty earlier. What’d I ever do to her, anyway?” He tried his best to make it sound like this was an afterthought so as not to give his dad the wrong idea. Ben was sixteen— he didn’t care what some little fourteen year old girl thought of him. He had his actual driving license; she probably didn’t even have her permit yet._

_After they paid they waited off to the side while one cashier boxed their pie and the other prepared the two cups of frozen vanilla custard Han ordered for them to have in the meantime. Usually pie would be served after dinner, because Han was ‘responsible like that.’_

_He felt his dad’s eyes on him, like he was looking to see if his son had some sort of secret message or hidden agenda._

_He folded his arms and tapped his foot rhythmically. “She’s a feisty one, huh?”_

_Ben walked up to the counter to get the cups, hoping the pink color on his cheeks would fade by the time he returned._

_“I guess. She’s got an attitude. Maybe she gets it from Maz.”_

_“Chewie can be a real hothead too, you know.”_

_Han collected their pie and they made their way back to the car._

_‘I Got Stripes’ was on the second verse as they drove out._

_“She’s just a little different, that’s all,” Han finally said after a moment. “She’s tough. But she’s a good kid. I think you guys’ll hit it off in no time. But don’t hit it too off.”_

_Ben groaned as Han cracked up at his own off-hand, snide little comment. Rey was super cute; Ben would be lying if he didn’t own up to that. But he wasn’t about to let a whole summer be wasted going wild over some freshman or sophomore girl with a British accent who could hardly even stand him._

_‘I doubt we’ll even spend a lot of time around each other. No point in making any friends in this town. After this, there’s only one summer left,’ he thought._

_‘And after that, we’ll never see each other again anyway.’_

He took one last look at the photo before carefully putting it back in the box.

“Welp, let’s put that at the top of the ‘Biggest, Dumbest Lies Ever Told’ list,” he said to himself with a bitter laugh.

He got up and put the box back in its rightful spot. He took his time making his way down the stairs from his top-floor bedroom to the living room.

His condominium was done exactly how he wanted it to be done: everything fell into a gray, black, white, graphite, and chrome color scheme, and the furniture was sparse. There wasn’t a need to have a bunch of couches and chairs, since he didn’t really care to have people over. He didn’t think it was necessary to have such a large space, given his lifestyle. He really only needed four out of the nine rooms he had; the bedroom, the restroom, the kitchen, and the music room.

The living room was more of a novelty. Usually the only people he had over were Rey, Hux, or Rose, and every now and then his parents.

Whenever he anticipated their visits, he’d always prepare the east guest room for his mother and the west guest room for his father.

He tended to forget they were back to only needing one room to share as of late.

So, factoring them in, he only used five of the nine rooms, he realized. Not just the four he had first thought.

Even so, it was still too much. But Leia was the one who found the place and facilitated it when Ben moved to town, and he was tied to the lease for at least two more years.

Out of all of its post-modern, tailored features, he valued the music room the most.

He always took a moment to appreciate its design upon entering. The grand piano was placed on a slight lift in the right-hand corner of the room and off to the side was a wide, crystal-clear window that showcased the glowing cityscape outside. It was his favorite place to be, whether he was playing or not. He considered bringing the toolbox to store there as well, but Rey was a frequent visitor and had no reservations in going through his things, and he’d rather her not go through that box. So it was safer to keep it in his room.

There was a red velvet channel-tufted loveseat sofa with gold legs that faced the front of the piano.

He sat on the piano’s adjoining bench and looked onward; he could practically see Rey sitting there as she often did while he played. She always looked so serene, with her eyes closed and a warm smile at her lips. She’d sway her foot, trying to keep in tune with the melody as Ben played. He could almost feel it, the way the notes vibrated through the air and poured into Rey; it was as if the rhythm brought a new color to her cheeks and she bloomed before him.

Or maybe that was just _her_ affect; her affect on _him_ , causing him to become alive and put more and more pieces of himself with each stroke of the keys.

Whenever he played alone, the way his fingers would smash against each ivory and ebony key was done more harshly. More aggressively. Violently.

The tempo was faster, the articulation angrier.

The music was the color black. Like a storm cloud on the horizon, filling the once-bright sky with its smoky cast.

Like being small and alone under a dark, heavy shadow.

His sound had the same essence as driving in a fast car at night; running away; thunder and lightning striking the sea; sinking into the murky depths of the water; falling into a bottomless void, becoming farther and farther from the world once known; vision fading out before everything goes black.

Black was beautiful.

Black was sleek.

Black was elegant.

Black was timeless.

But black was also cold.

Black was chaotic.

Black was the silence that preceded disaster.

Black was solitaire.

Black was lonesome.

And it got tiresome, being so lonesome all the time.

Despite being suffocated by dark hues, Ben chose to surround himself with them quite often.

Maybe it’s true.

The darkness became him.

The song he had been working on was originally an entire octave higher in its genesis. It flowed like a stream, light blue with the golden gleam on the sunlight reflected against it.

But now it was low. It came out more like rainfall, beating down angrily.

He had jotted down the original composition of it, but the more he played around with it, the better it sounded as a mourning song than it had as an awakening song.

But even the sweetest of lullabies could have the echo of loss in their melody, he reasoned. If Rey wanted something brighter, he could work with it. And if he wanted her to really see how much of him was in each note, he decided he ought to play it in the way that came to him most naturally.

“I think I’ve seen this movie...,” he muttered in sing-song as he began the bridge.

His fingers jerked back and he sighed.

_That doesn’t fit._

The end-vowel in ‘movie’ didn’t flow well with the blunt, low drawl that came with each strike.

_Rey says ‘film,’ not ‘movie.’_

“I think I’ve seen this _film_...”

Much smoother.

“I think I’ve seen this film before...”

He just needed this song to be the one. Not just because it was so important to Rey that she meet the track list quota for the record, but because this was his chance. To Ben, it felt like it was now or never; it was his chance to finally say something before he talked himself out of it and it became too late.

And considering the conversation they had on the phone the day before, it was getting later and later each day.

He grabbed the notebook atop the accent table behind him and flipped the pages until he found the composition of the song thus far.

Of course he knew it’d need some tweaking, especially by way of lyrics. His range was that of a low-end tenor and Rey was more of a mezzo-soprano, so there would need to be slight adjustments to ensure the lyrics would flatter her voice. Plus, he was sure Rey would play around with the lyrics and turn them into something even more beautiful.

He swept the loose wisps of hair out of his eyes and started from the beginning.

“You can see me starin’, honey,

Like he’s just my understudy...

Like I’d get my knuckles bloody for you...,”

_I’ll have to work on that one._

“Second, third, and hundredth chances...

Balancing on breaking branches...

Those eyes add insult to injury.”

“I think I’ve seen this film before...

And we’re together in the ending...

It’s not their problem anymore...

Who cares who we’re offending now?

No longer in exile, seein’ me out...

I think I’ve seen this film before...

Don’t have to leave out the side door.”

* * *

_And I didn’t like the ending._

* * *

Thankfully Poe was a reasonable person.

Rey asked him if they could meet at her place that Friday, two days after the ‘scandal’ broke.

He was perfectly agreeable, telling her that whenever she was ready, he would accommodate whatever she had in mind. And he seemed sincere. He had a naturally relaxed approach to things, which eased some of the pressure and stress she was under. It made her feel like maybe this wouldn’t have to be the big deal Amilyn was making it seem like it would be.

He looked handsome that day. His dark curls were the epitome of controlled chaos as the sun highlighted their natural sheen. His smile was just as bright.

He was dressed similarly to the way he had been when they had their date; a warm-toned dress shirt under a brown leather jacket paired with crisp jeans.

He was even doing that thing cool guys did in films, where they lean on their side and support themselves with the arm that’s propped on the doorframe.

Poe looked like he was there to see _her_ , not to discuss what could be defined as a business transaction.

And Rey couldn’t help but blush and feel a bit winded by his presence.

“Hi,” she squeaked out.

His smiled deepened and he nodded upwards. “Hey, you.”

She could feel herself beaming. “Hey.”

He kept smiling at her without saying anything, and it was only after a good half minute of making eyes that Rey realized he was waiting to come in.

“Please! Come in,” she rushed out as she held the door open for him.

“Make yourself comfortable. Sit wherever,” she told him as they made their way past the front room.

“Do you want to talk at the table, or the couch or...?” He asked as his eyes scanned the living room and kitchen area. “Whatever you’d prefer, Rey.”

She nodded curtly and headed to the kitchen. “We can just chat on the sofa if that suits you. I’m just grabbing a drink, what can I get you?”

Poe had just sat down on the white cotton sectional but got up as soon as she asked. “Oh, I think water would be great. But I can get it myself! Don’t wanna put you out!”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Rey called back. Poe was in the kitchen already though and followed her lead to the cupboards that had all the cups and glasses.

“Nah, it’s totally all good. My mom always had us serve ourselves, so if she catches wind I’m getting lazy, she’ll come for me,” he said with a wink.

Rey chuckled. “Are you close with your parents?”

Poe nodded and fondness spread across his face as he poured the bottle of water Rey handed him into his glass. “I am. They’re great. I don’t see them as much since moving out here but we talk all the time. I see them when I can. How about you? Are you and your folks close?”

Rey was about to go into the explanation she would usually give when it came to her parentage, but she quickly realized that she didn’t need to; Poe already knew, most likely. Everyone knew, so there was no need to present that information as if it were something new.

“I am! They live back east, so I don’t see them often either, but we talk and text all the time. They’re not quite as tech-savvy as I would like them to be, so we’re still needing to tackle the matter of Zoom, but we make it work. We usually talk on the phone, but Maz— my mother, she texts.”

Rey shut her eyes and clenched her teeth, fearing that she had just needlessly word-vomited, but Poe only showed sincere interest in response.

“Really? That’s pretty funny,” he chuckled as they walked back to the couch with their glasses. “I’m relieved my parents aren’t tech-savvy. Chances are if they were, my mom would be trying to FaceTime me during a reading and tell me I better sit up straight or else.”

She laughed as they settled in. “It’s nice that she cares, though.”

“Oh definitely,” Poe sighed out contently. “They really do. They’ll actually be coming down here for a week in January and I was going to show them around town since it’ll be their first time visiting since I’ve moved here. You’re welcomed to join us for dinner sometime if you’d like.”

Rey’s smile diminished at first before she corrected herself, but not before Poe picked up on it.

His eyes rounded in worry and he put his palms up. “Sorry. I didn’t— sorry, that was probably really weird. I didn’t mean it like— I didn’t mean to make it seem like I’m trying to...,” he staggered for words. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I wanna rush or anything.”

“Oh, no, Poe, don’t apologize! I didn’t take it that way, don’t worry. I’d love to meet them! I’m sure seeing your mum correct your posture would be great fun,” she teased.

It wasn’t Poe’s fault that the idea of meeting his parents filled Rey with panic. It really wasn’t. She knew he was just being friendly, but she was relieved that he downplayed it anyway.

_It’s not a ‘no’... it’s just a ‘not yet,’_ she told herself.

Poe bounced back from the awkwardness rather quickly, which helped Rey to do the same.

It made sense that he was also friends with Kaydel. Kaydel was her ‘fun friend,’ the friend she hung around when she wanted to let loose and not deal with whatever drama was going on in the background of her life. She could easily see the three of them going out and having a good night out on the town, talking about whatever they wanted to under the golden lights of fancy bars, swaying along with the bass of the songs meant for dancing. It was on those nights things seemed less scary, and Rey supposed she could use more of them these days. Easy nights where all of her champagne problems wouldn’t be remembered.

And maybe having someone there to go home with at the end of those nights would do something about the emptiness she was left with upon waking up alone the following morning.

‘ _Mmm._ ’

It was a new layer to a bad hangover. She would feel desolate, grasping at the frayed ends of something she never really had. Like she had only known the ghost of a feeling.

‘ _Baby..._ ’

She’d feel so cold, even if she managed to keep her blankets on as she slept. It was akin to the coldness felt upon the loss of touch; it felt like at one time there should’ve been big strong arms holding her throughout the night. Like maybe love had slipped beyond her reaches.

‘ _God, that was so good._ ’

She wasn’t sure if that was a feeling she brought home with her or or if it was one she carried around the entire time, merely dulling it with gin and fermented grapes until their effect faded away.

‘ _Please, sweetheart..._ ’

Poe was easygoing. He was relaxed, and she felt at ease around him. It was like being with an old friend, and so she found it easy to fall into a seamless dynamic with him.

“So, I guess Snap and Amilyn spoke?” He asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

She nodded. “Yeah! Yes, um... yes. They, uh, worked out all the technical details, it seems.”

He held his head in his hands and leaned forward as his eyes focused on her. It was as if he were trying to gage her reaction so as to compose his own. “Right, right. So, I mean, they probably told you that I’m good with whatever you want to do.”

_‘You know it, Rey.’_

His reaffirmation took a significant weight off her shoulders, refueling her confidence in her decision.

_Okay. Good. Brilliant. We’re still on the same page._

She took a deep breath and leaned back while holding it. Poe watched as she finally released it and wiped her face with her hand, not even caring if her makeup smeared. She would go mad if she didn’t just _say it._

“Can I be blunt with you?” She finally asked.

_‘You know.’_

“Of course, Rey.”

She opened her mouth to speak but the words didn’t come out. She had thought of what to say ever since they agreed to meet and felt so certain, so she couldn’t understand what kept her from saying it.

Everything was out of focus; all of the words were scrambled in her head, becoming more obscure and straying further from the forefront with every passing second.

Poe was probably watching all the different expressions play out on her face and wonder what on earth he had just gotten himself into, but Rey didn’t care.

It was like there was this quiet, persistant voice that managed to overpower any and all words she was trying to form. At first it was just a noice, but as she backed down from what she had in mind to say, it became clearer.

_‘This... it can’t happen, Rey.’_

_‘We can’t.’_

_‘You better go.’_

_‘I mean it this time.’_

_‘You shouldn’t have done this, Rey. I shouldn’t have let you, either.’_

_‘It’ll never work.’_

And in its final sayings, the voice got deeper. Older. Fresher.

_‘It’s stupid. It won’t ever happen. I know it, and I assume you do too.’_

She then spoke up before she could change her mind again.

“I am interested, Poe. I wanna give us a try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song references:
> 
> Exile by Taylor Swift (feat. Bon Iver)
> 
> Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift
> 
> Asgjkhfrgfber sorrrrryyyy if this was a bit painful, friends! It hurt me to write it, as much as i love Poe! No need to worry, though! There’s more to Rey and Poe’s (potential) relationship that meets the eye~
> 
> Also I wonder what Rey was thinking as she spoke to Poe... wonder what went down in the past that came back to mind right before she made *that* decision...👀
> 
> All edits were made by me! Please do not repost. 
> 
> Thank you for leaving me such thoughtful, amazing comments so far. Especially on that last chapter! I’m so glad to know you guys are enjoying this story and are willing to take the time to talk with me about it. I can’t express just how much that means to me, but all I can say is thank you and that I’m doing this because you motivate me!
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!! Please feel free to leave a comment, kudos, share this fic if you like it, bookmark it, tweet me about it... any and all of it! Thank you, friends 💕
> 
> Www.twitter.com/ang3lview


	6. wherever you stray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few days apart, Ben and Rey find their way back to each other. In that time, both have made decisions; what they haven’t decided is whether or not they’ll tell the other about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big soft boi chapter

__

_19 June, 2012_

_Dear Diary,_

_You’ll never guess what happened tonight._

_Well, okay, if you’ve been keeping up then you probably know I had my weekly guitar lesson with Pawz and Han. Which is right, I did. But it was what happened AT the lesson that’s key here!_

_So as you know, Ben Solo has been hanging around lately but I hadn’t run into him at Han’s house thus far... that is until tonight!! And OMG, it was so... weird!!! But I think in a good way? Ugh, he’s so hard to read!! I really wish I had a bestie or something I could talk about this with, maybe she would be able to give me more input? Assuming she’d have more experience with boys than I do... which wouldn’t be too difficult to top, unfortunately..._

_It’s not like I really need a big group of friends or anything. I think I would be happy to just have a few good friends, but as Mumz keeps telling me, I probably just haven’t found my ‘people’ or ‘tribe’ yet. I saw this amazing post on tumblr, where the letters were done in a fancy, cute font and the background was done in watercolours, and it said ‘Your Vibe Attracts Your Tribe.’ And I think that’s true so I always try to be nice so that way I’ll have friends that are nice to me. I try to be good, you know. I really do. When I know I can make someone else feel happy or even proud of me, it feels like I’ve achieved something. I know everyone feels that way to some degree, but I just really want to be something. It often feels like I have so much I have to say or want to give, but I don’t really know what to do with it. I want to create things and be memorable. Maybe there’s something in me that feels like I’d be making up for what my ‘parents’ did. Or didn’t do. Maybe in a way I’d be making up for their failings to myself. I don’t know. I try not to think of it too often because then I just end up in an absolutely dreadful frame of mind. I try to be hopeful. Sometimes it feels like the more good I do, the less bad I feel about myself and the things that have happened. And really, all I want in life is to be wonderful. Fearless. Someone people are proud of. I want to make Mumz and Pawz proud of me. I want Han to be proud of me too. Even Ben could be proud of me, maybe._

_Anywho, back to tonight and Ben._

_So I was at Han’s house with Pawz. We usually start at about 6 P.M. and practice until about 8, and it was all normal mostly until around halfway through. I had never seen Ben there before so I thought maybe he went out in the evenings or was just off somewhere, but apparently he stays in his room the whole time??? Which I thought was a bit rude, to be quite honest! Like yeah, I like my alone time too but anytime Mumz and Pawz have had company over I’ve always been made to greet them at the very least... but anyway the way I discovered Ben was there was when we were going through the song I’m learning right now (Perfect Day by Lou Reed!), Han got a call on his landline so we took a quick rest._

_He was a bit stern at first but then seemed to realise himself and was a bit softer then. I don’t know if it was because he remembered that Pawz and I were still there or maybe the person said something? Anyway, they talk for a moment (or I guess I should say that the person on the call talked since Han was mostly listening). Han only said something like “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Are you... are you taking care? Looking after yourself plenty?” Which was SO WEIRD because I’d never heard Han sound like that! His tone was so soft and almost sad, like he was worried or something?_

_But after they answered (I’m guessing?), he just responded “well I’m glad to hear it, princess.” I don’t know if he meant ‘princess’ in a mean, snarky way since Han is always very snarky, but he didn’t sound like he was trying to be witty. And then he said “okay, yes. He’s in his room, I’ll pass you to him.”_

_He then pointed his finger to us as if to say ‘wait a minute’ and then went off to the other side of the house. I was looking to Pawz in hopes he’d clue me in to what was going on but he just watched in the direction Han went off in, not saying anything. He seemed to know what was going on, but apparently felt it was none of MY business. Ugh. I was rolling my eyes so hard, so I suppose it was better he wasn’t looking my way in the end hehe._

_When Han came back he was a bit... hmm. Distracted, maybe? I’m not sure, he just seemed to have his mind on other things so it was a little bit hard to get back into our groove (I can’t believe I just used that word. Omg.) at first but eventually we got it._

_And because I’m so keen on learning this song finally so I can move onto something else, I was TRYING my best to pay attention and play it through start to end without any slips, but unfortunately for me that did not happen. It wasn’t too bad, but I was just very distracted and my attention would waver. In the background of all three of us playing, I’m almost certain I could hear yelling. Like a manly-ish voice getting louder and harsher. I think Pawz and Han were already back into the rhythm by that point so maybe they didn’t hear the yelling or my grotesque playing, but I most definitely did and was getting annoyed. I’ve been stuck on the SAME SONG for the past two and a half weeks and I swear I never want to hear it again, but Han and Pawz are determined that I perfect it before picking something else out. So naturally I’m trying to get it down but how can I when someone is clearly talking very loudly the whole time I’m playing??? UGH._

_And sorry to be going so off topic but I’m still a bit frustrated! I don’t think anyone fully understands just how vital it is for me to master this bloody instrument, especially by summer’s end! The talent show is always in October so I really need to be ready for it! I heard some of the people at school say that every now and then talent agents come by local talent shows to find new clients... and I’m pretty sure that isn’t true (it would be a bit creepy I think!!!) but I mean, you never know!! I’m thinking of working on getting some music for one particular song I wrote (as in the lyrics) so I can do that one for the show. Which means I REALLY need to learn how to play the guitar ASAP. I mean, just with the few chords I’ve already learned I’m starting to combine them and come up with some melodies, but it has to be PERFECT. I’m also thinking of taking some cool pictures this summer with Han’s old Polaroid camera and maybe filming some videos on my phone so I can make little music videos and post them on YouTube or tumblr or something. I read that Lana Del Rey got started that way, actually and she is SO FREAKING COOL. The one video she made for Video Games is still popular to this day even though she made it herself a long time ago before she was famous! So maybe I can try to do something like that??? We’ll see. I mean, it sounds silly and immature but I really do wish I could do something with music when I grow up. It feels odd to say I want to be a famous singer, but I really do want that. It’s not that I want all the money or anything like that... I think I’m pretty low-maintenance in that way. But to me it’s of great importance to know I’m reaching people with what I do. I want to be understood more than anything and just know I’m doing something people like and maybe even can relate to. I want to reach people. I want to meet everyone. I want to travel and perform in all those cool places like Tokyo, Paris, Brazil... hell, even HOLLYWOOD!! I just want to feel like I matter. Like I’ve made a difference, even if it’s to just one person in the entire world. But I won’t know that if I don’t try to reach them, will I?_

_ANYWAY ANYWAY, back to the story!!!!_

_So I decided at that point to use the washroom, maybe splash some water on my face to refresh myself. So I go and I promise I was trying not to eavesdrop but apparently Ben’s bedroom is close to the washroom, so... so yeah as I was in there freshening up I heard more of what was going on. Obviously I couldn’t hear what the person he was speaking with was saying but here’s what I heard him say (or yell, I guess):_

_“Because I already told you!”_

_“No, I don’t actually.”_

_“Why don’t we just go back to acting like the other doesn’t exist? I think we both were doing a lot better when we kept that up.”_

_“Well that was your choice, it sure as hell wasn’t mine, or dad’s for that matter.”_

_“I’m NOT using a ‘tone!’” (He was DEFINITELY using a tone)_

_“Yeah, well, you know I’d hate to have you leave freaking Gotye waiting.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_And then it was VERY quiet for a moment. I didn’t comprehend the silence was partially due to me having turned off the water to hear better, but I mean it was like 95% on Ben’s part._

_I have no idea what he could’ve been talking about or to who... at first I thought maybe a girlfriend or something, since it sounded like a fight... and I won’t lie, the idea of him having someone had only then dawned on me and I felt a little bit sick. I know I don’t have a chance either way, but the thought that maybe he’s in love with someone else and has somebody waiting on him was painful. But that’s besides the point. I don’t think it was a girlfriend though because why would he mention his dad like that? And what does Gotye have to do with anything??? It was very strange, and by lingering like that I probably made it even stranger, so I quickly dried my hands and made a dive for the exit._

_Little did I know, maximum awkwardness had yet to be achieved and only would be reached as soon as I came out._

_Because when I came out, he was already outside the door!!!! Just looking at me with a weird look on his face! And because I am who I am, I LITERALLY took a step back and RAN BACK INSIDE AND SLAMMED THE DOOR ON HIM!!!! I’m such a FREAK, like who even DOES that????? That was quite possibly the most embarrassing thing I could’ve done! He must’ve thought I was some sort of weird creepy stalker or something!! And so I was very panicked and was rushing to think of something to say to try to explain what I did, but there was nothing appealing at all to say. It was absolutely berserk!!!!_

_And then he was all, “Rey? You alright in there?” Which only made it worse because he sounded so nice, too. Like I had worried him. If anything, I probably just made him worry for his own safety since I made such a loon out of myself._

_“Er, um,” I babble, “yes! Sorry, I uh, forgot my... my phone in here! Left it by the loo.”_

_And there’s a good chance he heard the sound of my palm smacking against my forehead, since that was also a very dumb thing to say. He probably thinks I clogged his toilet!!_

_Thankfully then I had the sense to get the hell out of there so I did and he was just standing there with his back leaned against the wall opposite of me. His arms were crossed and he was looking at me like he was uncomfortable (which he probably was), but he didn’t look angry or anything. I thought maybe he would since I acted so peculiarly. That and the way his phone call had gone (not good). But he just looked away and that lush, wondrous hair of his swooped over his eyes, causing him to flip it back with his hands. It wasn’t in that dickheaded way the jocks at school do, either. It was just natural, and just... ugh. So devastatingly attractive!!!_

_“Sorry!” I blurt out, cause clearly we can’t have nice things in this house. “Sorry, I was just, um... I’m forgetful. I’m sorry.”_

_He smiled at me sooooo softly and looked down like he was a bit shy. He shrugged, still with his arms over his torso. “S’fine, no worries.”_

_And I could’ve just left it there, but of course I didn’t. Instead, I decided to wreck things even more by speaking._

_“I didn’t know you were here.”_

_And he looks at me like he’s a little bit flustered but kind of laughs. “I mean, it is my dad’s house and I am here for the summer, so...”_

_“Right! Yes, no, definitely. Right. I just... I just meant like that you were in the house. I um, I come here play guitar with Ha— your dad and my dad. And I don’t think I’ve seen you around when I’m here. Or maybe I have, I don’t have a good memory sometimes.”_

_He gives me a weird look, something akin to a frown, but he quickly changes it and is back to being sturdy and cool. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I usually am just in my room. Working on some stuff. Keeping busy, you know. Small towns,” he shrugs and huffs. “Small towns are just... small. Not a lot to do. No one to hang out with. Not the most ideal way to spend the summer. Gets boring quick, so I gotta keep busy.”_

_And I know he probably didn’t mean it as a slight but my heart sank a little at that. I know it wasn’t directed at me but for some reason hearing him say how small and lame it is here made me feel... small. And lame._

_“Oh. Yeah, yeah. That’s true. I um, better get back to the guys. Practice is almost over so I won’t be hogging your washroom anymore,” and I kind of say that with a laugh but it’s just all word-vomit at that point. I give him a nod and start walking down the hall back to the living room and I thought for a second he made a noise, like maybe he was going to say something, but he didn’t._

_I felt pretty bad the rest of the night and I think maybe Han and Pawz did too because there wasn’t a lot of talking afterwards. We went through the song twice more and only spoke when reciting the lyrics or one of the guys gave me a pointer or something. It was like there was a ginormous elephant in the room and everyone else knew what (or who?) it was except for me. I am my own elephant, quite frankly._

_When we were packing up and getting ready to head home, Ben came into the room and sat on the other side of the couch I was sitting on (I was leaning down to lock my guitar case). I didn’t know what to say or if I should say anything so I kind of just looked down at my feet. I was wearing my usual pair Birkenstock’s BTW. And my toes are currently painted neon yellow because it looks pretty against my skin when it tans in the summer._

_I then realised that I should probably try to dress nicer if there’s a chance I’ll see Ben at the house again. He’s only ever seen me in my work suit and now in my old ratted denim shorts and a big, splotchy, baggy old T-shirt. It actually is Pawz’s souvenir shirt from the Picasso museum in Spain. He got it during the trip they found me, having gone to Barcelona before they went to England. But since I’ve taken a liking to it and thus have made it mine, now it’s covered in paint, motor oil, and steak sauce stains. It’s white too, which makes it even sloppier. Maybe I’ll go to the mall and look at those little dresses they sell at Forever 21._

_We get to leaving finally and both Han and Ben walk us to the car. We say our goodbyes (except for Ben, he was mostly silent the whole time) and before we hop in the truck, Ben stops me._

_“Hey Rey,” he says softly._

_He makes me nervous so I worried my bottom lip between my teeth and tried to look presentable by pulling one of the rogue strands of hair from my face to the back of my ear as I turn to him._

_“Yes?”_

_He just looks at my face for a long time. I couldn’t read his expression though. His eyes were a bit blown and his lips parted slightly, as if he was a bit winded. I don’t know what it meant. Again, I need a bff to help me with these things._

_“Um,” and then he’s the one now looking at his feet and all around. “I just wanted to say that, uh... that you sound really good. Your playing, I mean. Every time I’ve heard you I always mean to come out and tell you but you end up leaving before I get the chance to.”_

_I swear I probably looked like the heart-eyes emoji. I’m totally blushing and stammering and fidgeting with my hands, not even knowing what to say. He was so so so sweet and so adorable, and the fact that he’s heard me play?? He pays attention and listens when I’m playing?? And thinks I’m good??? I am DEAD with passion, I tell you!!!_

_“Thank you,” I finally manage out. Whenever we talk he always keeps his eyes loyally trained on me, but the way he looks at me is just so... I don’t even know how to describe it, it’s just very intense. Like he knows something about me that I don’t even know, or like he’s trying to find that thing I don’t know I have in me. So I just looked at my hands and beamed._

_Neither of us say anything and then Pawz tells me to get in the car so we can go home. Ben and I just wave at each other to say goodbye._

_On the ride home, Pawz and I talk about the next song I’m going to learn. When I first started up, he had selected ‘9 To 5’ by Dolly Parton. I think I sing it weird since I have an accent, but it was pretty fun to learn actually. And after that, Perfect Day was Han’s choice. So now I need to decide which song I want to focus on next. We agreed I should find something relatively simple so I can learn it quickly and move onto the next. I think I would like to learn a Katy Perry song. I like the bluesy, folksy songs Han and Pawz like, but I like pop music too._

_If Pawz noticed how happy I was on our way back and when we got home, he didn’t say anything. He told me how good I did and if we have time tomorrow after work, we can go over the bridge section since that was where I had some trouble earlier. I’m so glad to almost be DONE with it!_

_Which is why I’m surprised that I caught myself singing it in the shower I just took. I don’t know, I guess some of the lyrics are just stuck in my head._

_‘Just a perfect day_

_You made me forget myself_

_I thought I was_

_Someone else, someone good.’_

* * *

Ben called the next day, but Rey didn’t answer.

Rey debated whether or not that was the moment to take the grand dive and get into it right then and there. Telling Ben over the phone had some definite benefits.

If she were to tell him now, she’d be saving herself the trouble of doing it later. She could spare both of them that awkward silence that filled the gaps of these discussions. Plus, if it went as she suspected it would and he didn’t take it well— not that he had any right to take it any other way— she could just hang up on him and ignore him for a little while. It’s worked in the past, after all.

_The less Ben knows the better,_ she reasoned.

She found herself briefly distracted by the recollection of the last time that happened.

She had begun seeing Seff. Seff was... what was he? A CW show actor? SNL cast member? Something local and trendy at the time.

Like his public relevance, he came and went in Rey’s life as well.

She remembered informing Ben via telephone call that she had been seeing Seff for the past month. She didn’t really see it going anywhere, but there was always a small, unwavering voice in the back of her mind that encouraged her to tell him.

And as she expected, he went into his usual lecture about how her latest love interest was subpar and probably not as great as he seemed. His mood would darken and his words would be cynical and passive agressive.

And, as for her part, she’d react the way she always did: she’d tell him to mind his own business and bug off, since he never had anything useful to say when it came to these things. That he better watch his attitude and stop being so negative all the time.

They’d argue like that for a bit until one of them— almost always Rey— just hung up the call or stopped replying to the messages.

They would ignore each other for a few days, maybe a week or so. They’d be snide to one another in that time if they encountered each other, which only ever ended in both of them feeling bad and grasping at whatever straws a possible reconciliation offered.

They rarely had ceremonious make-ups. Usually one of them would find a reason— or excuse— to get in touch with the other, and things would go back to normal.

That was until it started up again, whether it be caused by Rey going out with someone new or Ben taking up with Bazine again.

And it drove her crazy. It had been their way all this time. It made no sense, and was all just a waste of breath on both sides. But there was a part of her that just _had_ to take it there with him.

She used to tell herself it confused her. That their conflict was upsetting and she wanted to avoid it at all costs.

But at this point, she was at a loss. It was too much. Something between them was simmering, burning with energy once again. It was like the ground they stood on was a volcano that was thought to be dead but was only dormant for the moment.

Something had to give.

Even though she would tell herself that shutting him out was her way of keeping the peace, deep down she knew her feigned aloofness and refusal to engage him only added fuel to the fire.

And she couldn’t help but think that the sight of him going up in flames was a lovely one.

It only grew in intensity over time. Each row got more and more heated; more and more personal.

And Rey had gradually developed a taste for pushing Ben over the edge. Little nudges and jabs. Sometimes she told herself she didn’t mean to, but intention became less of a concern the more it happened.

On a subconscious level, she knew that part of her relished the rise in Ben’s pitch and the choppy current of his tone whenever they got into it. She would share just enough to get him there, a little more each time, but never see it all the way through.

Which was exactly what happened the last time.

_“Yes, I’m planning to see him again,” she told him._

_“I see. Well, that’s good. I’m actually thinking of getting back in touch with Baz again, so.”_

_Her head grew hot and her lips tightened. “Well that’s just brilliant, Ben. What will this be, your third, fourth go with her?”_

_She could practically see the mean smirk on his face. “Oh, don’t worry about me. Worry about that Seff guy, Rey. I heard something about him the other day. He’s broke, you know. He’s a leech who’s just gonna waste your time. You know you can do better. Why don’t you see that?”_

_That last part stuck to her painfully like a bruise, and lingered longer than it should’ve._

_“Is it so hard to believe someone could possibly want to be with me?”_

_“Don’t start, Rey.”_

_She ignored that. “Why do you always overstep, Ben? You always give me this unsolicited judgement, which is why I bloody hate telling you things! You always try to ruin things for me!”_

_“You can’t just shut me out whenever I tell you something you don’t wanna hear. Stop being so damn stubborn.”_

_“Yes I can shut you out whenever, actually. I don’t have to tell you anything, nor do I have to hear you out whenever you’re on your bullshit, Ben. If it were up to you I would never meet anyone and die alone, just like I was born! Why for the love of God would I want to hear that all the time when I can just hang up this stupid bloody call?”_

_“Watch it, Rey,” he snapped, his voice lowering and growing dangerous. “Don’t take it there. You always have to take it there and I’m not playing that little game with you today. You know you’re putting words in my mouth.”_

_Tears began forming. As dramatic as it seemed, Rey wasn’t really sure how unbelievable that would be; Ben made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want her, yet didn’t seem to encourage her to find anyone else who could._

_“I don’t want to talk with you right now. Just... just leave me alone, Ben.”_

_She hung up._

He knew to give her space, but he was always around. He would either wait until she couldn’t stand being away from him and would finally reach out or vise versa. They would always be together in the end, and he knew it.

She did too.

And she was willing to go through all of that. As bad as his turbulent reaction her feel, she knew she’d feel worse if he didn’t react at all.

She needed to get a reaction from him, even if it was negative. She just had to. It was like an addictive game.

So much pushing and pulling. It was like a tug-of-war between them, and the rope they each vied for was the fine line they walked on. Neither willing to name it or address it, but both allowing it to be the invisible string that tied one to the other.

It wasn’t that she liked hurting him; when he felt bad, so did she. She just craved the feeling she got whenever that possessive side of him showed. That’s all.

Rey constantly reminded herself Ben was just _protective_ of her; because she was his _baby_ , she was the _Kid_ , she was his _little girl_. His _sweetheart._

All his.

And even though those words meant worlds more to Rey than they did to Ben, she forced herself to believe that it was enough. That he cared about her, even if it wasn’t in the way she yearned for. He wanted what was best for her, that was all. That it really wasn’t that he was jealous or anything, and that he was just watching out for her.

It couldn’t be anything more. Because Ben _had_ to know that he’d always have the high ground. That there was really no cause to be envious of any other man.

Because why would he be? She’d _always_ been his. Even if he wasn’t hers.

It’d always been that way, and it probably always would be.

Which was why she had said ‘yes’ to Poe. Because maybe that was her chance to change that.

Poe was different. She could see herself being happy with him. Content at the very least.

So maybe this, Rey finally trying this time to move on, would be the ultimate sacrifice made to ensure the happiness of them both. And it would ensure that ultimately they could always be together. Because now there would be no one bringing them down by having held on too long.

_I’ll call him back_ , she decided.

She brought her knees up to her chest and threw her arms over them as the dial tone came from the speaker. She had spent the morning in bed and was in no particular hurry to get up just yet.

It only took two rings before he answered.

“Rey.” His voice was warm and tinted with relief, as if there could ever be a possibility of him not hearing from her again.

“Hey,” she breathed out. Light huffs came out from them as gentle laughs, as if they both were smiling and overwhelmed with fondness.

Ben didn’t know she had talked with Poe. Not yet, anyway.

“How are you, Kid? I don’t know if you saw my call or not.”

_Yes I did._

“Oh? Huh, that’s odd. I didn’t see any missed calls, but then again I hadn’t really check my notifications yet,” she lied. “I just wanted to get on the phone with you. Hear from you.”

That was not a lie.

He hummed happily. “Yeah?”

“Of course, Ben.”

“Well I called you for that, too. Wanting to hear from you, I mean. Feels like it’s been a few days.”

It had been more than a few days, in fact. Even if Ben didn’t know exactly what Rey was up to, he seemed to always know when a new barrier popped up between them and created this distance. And he always waited for her to take it down. Sometimes he found his way around it with one of his lighthearted initiations or oddly specific reasons to reestablish contact. But he never crossed it in true. He never did anything to tear what mounted between them down, destroying it once and for all. But then again, neither of them did.

“I know,” she sighed. “I’ve got some writing done though, so at least I spent my time somewhat productively.”

“Oh yeah? Anything you care to share?”

Even though he couldn’t see her, she made a display of acting coy by tapping on her chin and rolling her eyes off to the side in contemplation. “Hmm. That depends.”

He chuckled. She knew he was smirking. “Is that so? Huh. What does it depend on?”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn’t have anything in mind when she initially said it, but now she debated where she could take it. She could say something boisterous, like a demand that he recite each lyric in his terrible fake British accent while she live-streamed it...

Or she could say something a bit bolder. Something along the lines of telling him he can only see them if he comes over right now and gives her a reason to forget all about the heartbreak and insatiable lonesomeness she had written about.

But neither of those would do, she decided.

“It depends on you, actually.”

“Me?” He chuckled.

“Yes, you. You can only get a sneaky peek if you show me what you said you had come up with, and if we’re doing it over Ramen.”

He laughed but it came out a bit flat. “Ah, I see. I should’ve known food would be on the table here.”

“Benjamin Solo, was that a _pun_ I just heard?!” She accused him through giggles.

He groaned. “Hey, don’t pick on me! It’s your influence, you know. You and your awful, terrible jokes.”

“The ones you always laugh at, you mean?”

“I’m just being supportive.”

“Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ve seen tears in your eyes before after I hit you with an especially good punch-line.”

“Good God, there you go again.”

“‘Again?’ What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t be coy, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know!” She whined. She squirmed and kicked her feet against the mattress for emphasis. She loved bugging him in this way too. “Tell me!”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “‘Hit you’... ‘punch-line’? I’m getting nauseous already. You make me sick with your puns.”

She cracked up at that, joy spreading from top to bottom resulting in her toes wiggling.

He was laughing too. “This wasn’t even funny. Why are we laughing?”

She rolled on her tummy and held her head in her free hand. “It _is_ funny though. We’re funny. We make me laugh.”

He scoffed. “You’re the comedian here, I’m just your one-man audience.”

“If you think I’m so unfunny then why are you at my comedy show? Explain that one, mister!”

“Because.”

She clicked her tongue. “Because why? You’ve always got a mouth on you, so don’t act speechless now that you’re being called out,” she teased.

She could hear him swallow and shift. “Because,” he said nonchalantly. “Wherever you stray, I’ll follow.”

The beat of her heart picked up at that. She needed to write that one down. “Oh,” was all she could manage in response though.

“Eh. Forget it. You know what I mean.” Anytime ardent words like that managed to slip from him, he was always so quick to reconcile his intent. She wished he could just leave them be. Just let her pretend they meant more, even just for a little while.

“The more you say, the less I know,” she sighed out.

“That’s not the right saying, right? I don’t remember how it’s supposed to go.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “I like mine better anyway.”

“So back to ramen,” he said after a moment. “When are you free?”

“Um...” She took a moment to convey she had to check. She probably wasn’t free at any time given the state she was in with the record, but that didn’t really matter. She just wanted to see him.

“How about I pick you up in an hour?” He added.

She felt like she probably should have declined so she could get some other things done, including returning Finn’s rejected Zoom meeting call, but she was just in that type of mood today.

“Brilliant.”

Surely an hour was enough time for her to muster up the courage to tell him she would be seeing Poe now.

* * *

_You were my town._

* * *

Rey decided to keep it simple. After freshening up and doing the bare necessities of getting ready, she decided to wear a soft red jumper with a corduroy mini skirt. Los Angeles doesn’t suffer the consequences of a harsh winter the way New York did, so adding on some knitted tights with boots was more than enough to stay warm.

She had forgone makeup too.

_That way if this ends in tears, I won’t have to worry about smudging._

Ben arrived on time, to the hour exactly. Sometimes if he arrived earlier than that (which he often did), Rey would catch him sitting in his car until the time came to collect her at the door. She used those extra moments to prepare herself. She made sure she had her keys, I.D., phone, all the essential things; she checked herself in the decorative mirror near the entrance to ensure she was presentable; and she took a moment to take a deep breath and ease into the mindset necessary for whenever she and Ben got together.

Especially since she would be telling him about Poe.

_This... this is fine. It’ll be fine. Just like always. Don’t make it awkward and it’ll go perfectly fine. Just... just say what I need to say, and let the cards fall where they may. This is good. This is fine._

She went out the door before he had the chance to get out and come for her. He was startled upon hearing a knock at the passenger side window but instantly relaxed upon seeing her staring in.

He unlocked the door and she slid in. He was usually the one to do the driving whenever they did something.

“Hey,” she sighed out as she buckled her seatbelt.

He still had his on and was gripping the steering wheel, watching her. “Hey. You look nice.”

She shrugged as she leaned back in the seat. “Thanks. It’s a little chilly today so I just wanted to be comfy.”

He nodded and took his eyes off her when she turned to him. He was wearing a somewhat thin, navy blue jumper with black jeans, both of which fitted him _very_ well. A watch on his right wrist as always. She thought it looked a bit like the one she had gifted to him last year. A pewter-colored Movado Swiss Chronograph watch. Ben wasn’t really the materialistic type either, despite always having had access to luxuries. The only ‘fancy’ things that interested him were watches. So whenever Rey was stuck on what to gift him when the occasion rose, she always ended up going for a nice new watch: personal, but not too intimate either. Definitely not a ‘boyfriend’ or ‘lover’ gift.

It was always better to play it safe.

“So where are we off to?” He asked as he pulled out of her neighborhood and drove in the direction of downtown. “Does ramen still sound good to you?”

Her tummy was almost empty but her nerves effected her appetite. Plus, while it would be easier on her stomach to have something light, she now felt like eating something heavy and comforting if she were going to have to go eat. “I’m good with whatever.”

He glanced at her with brows wrinkled and lips turned into a lopsided smile. “I thought you felt like ramen.”

She shrugged. “I mean, I always am.” She paused for a moment and glanced back at him as he kept his eyes on the road, then returned to looking ahead at the road as well. “I just said something random. I just... I felt like seeing you. And I haven’t had breaky, so I thought we could combine the two.”

The two cravings.

She caught a bright smile form on his face. “I wanted to see you too.”

_Not like that._ She hated that she had to deliberately remind herself of that every time, but she probably would feel worse if she didn’t.

“What do you feel like eating?”

He hummed in consideration while lowering the volume of the speakers. ‘Paul’ by Big Thief was in the second chorus.

‘ _I'll be your morning bright good night shadow machine_

_I'll be your record player baby if you know what I mean_

_I'll be a real tough cookie with the whisky breath_

_I'll be a killer and a thriller and the cause of our death._ ’

“I don’t know. I’m heading toward town, so we have options. Whatever you want is good with me. Something warm though, I think.”

She snickered. “Since when do we eat anything that’s not warm? All I can think of that’s cold are salads, and you know that’s not something I’d ever choose to have.”

He chuckled as he made a right turn. “You once had us eat ice cream for breakfast. Actually, more than once. Quite a few times, come to think of it.”

She huffed and clasped her hands together over her belly, which had started growling by that point. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

His shoulders rolled with a shrug and he pouted his bottom lip, turning to her when they were stopped at a red light. “It wasn’t an ideal breakfast but I had a good time eating it with you. Not so much when I ended up having to clean the mess we made in my kitchen while you took a nap on the couch, but the ambiance was overall the best part.”

Her cheeks puffed out with a cheeky grin. “Hey, I told you if you would’ve waited I would’ve helped clean up. You should’ve slept with me and our food babies.”

There was a small silence that followed, possibly from them both realizing the potential connotations of that, but eventually Ben just shrugged again once the light turned green. “I didn’t mind.”

Things like that shouldn’t cause such a profound shift in the mood between them, but they did. Rey didn’t know if she was the one who caused it by showing discomfort and a bit of embarrassment immediately after saying it, or if Ben caused it by reacting similarly.

“So, food,” she brought back up. “I kind of feel like eating something... hearty. Like a comfort food.”

He considered that for a second before his face lit up and he smirked. “I’m getting pancake vibes from you right now.”

Of course he knew what she wanted, even if she hadn’t realized it first. Ben was good about that, reading her and figuring out what she wanted. _Most_ of the time, anyway.

“Ding ding ding!” She cheered, “you win the million dollars! That sounds lovely.”

Ben drove them to a breakfast spot they’d been going to for years. They enjoyed their respective stacks of pancakes with a side of hashed browns and cappuccinos, idly talking about whatever came to mind.

“So tell me about what you’ve written,” he said when the waiter took their empty plates. “A new song or more of one you’d been working on?”

Rey sipped her coffee and tried to think of which song she should tell him about. It wasn’t a lie when she said she’d been writing more over the past week; she had completed two unfinished songs and was trying to piece together a new one.

‘ _I’m beggin’ for you to take my hand,_

_Wreck my plans,_

_That’s my man_.’

That would be part the chorus, she decided. She wanted this one to be a bit warmer than the others were turning out to be. Whether it would be a song for loving or for pining, she wasn’t sure yet. She did know that she wanted this one to be more reliant on electric guitar and hearty thumping, maybe with drum machines. She had already come up with a verse-chorus style the other day while she was playing around with the melody, choosing to go heavy on E minor and D.

“A little of both,” she said. “A lot of it has just been me messing around on the guitar. I’ll come up with a sound, then try to match it with whatever I’ve got written, but fitting it all together is where I get a bit stuck.”

He nodded in agreement. Ben was gifted, when it came to music so she doubted he could entirely relate. He had such a natural command when it came to bringing melodies to life; he could just sit around and mindlessly toy with the piano and at the end, he would have a breathtaking, cohesive song, done without him even meaning to compose it. Rey knew he also wrote lyrics on occasion but he never let her see them, which was a real tragedy— she would love to know what exactly he’s thinking. What he’s feeling.

Hearing the way he expresses himself via instrumental music alone blew her away, and only made her want more.

“It always jars me to hear that. You always mesmerize me, and your instinct is just...,” he looked up, as if he’d find the words he was looking for in the sky. “It’s fantastic. You’ve always been amazing. Everything you do... you... y-you just... captivate me, Rey.”

Why did he have to say things like that? Why did he have to look at her like that? Like he wanted to pour his admiration right into Rey, light her body and mind up with praise. His eyes would sparkle, as if she were glowing and the radiance he created was being softly reflected in them. He’d look at her like he had discovered gold. Like she was a mythical thing. Like he meant what he said, in every sense of the word— that she _captivated_ him. Left him breathless and stricken; like she haunted him day and night and really did have a hold on him. He made her feel like his life was a willow tree and she was only the wind that could cause him to bend.

But that was all it was. A feeling. A feeling he evoked, not necessarily feeling it himself.

She remembered the beginning rift from one of the songs off her third record. Wispy plucks, burning against her fingers as the movements vibrated through the strings. It was one of the many songs written about him. Created by her quest to capture the feeling he gave her and memorialize it in the form of sound; lyrics for that one were secondary but came naturally as well.

It was capo on fifth. A minor. F chord. C chord. G chord.

_‘I’ve wanted this from the day we met, Ben,’ she sighed against his skin._

Playing it had made her hands warm. It made her feel like her fingers were on fire, ignited by golden embers. Which was the only way she could describe how she felt inside— like there were billions of glittering, burning sparks flying inside her.

But it would always taper down, like the fire inside had been tamed by a cold splash of water. There were still sparks, though. Always making their way out of the ruin all to die in the air right after.

_‘Well, you shouldn’t,’ he murmured as he withdrew. Withdrew in every way._

If she had to encapsulate _that_ feeling as a sound, it would be F chord. C chord. D minor. A minor. Still a semblance of those burning little stars, but there would be the declining, washed-up drag left behind as they were destroyed.

“Thank you, Ben,” was all she could say back.

He looked at her as if he had been expecting her to say something more; whatever he had in mind was lost on her, though.

They went through their usual game of fighting the other over who would pay the bill, each one always insisting that they cover it themselves. Rey was annoyed that Ben won this time, but then again he usually did.

Once they got back to the car, Rey’s heart was full. It felt like it added weight to her, causing her to slow down in her movements and feel like everything around her was going a few second behind its usual pace.

She wished it could always be this way. With him sliding next to her, taking the wheel and turning to smile at her with that beautiful damn smile of his. The smile that had _her_ captivated. Full lips twisted upwards at the corners, showing his slightly crooked teeth; the little gaps between them. It made her feel like she was the only person in the world who would ever see it. Like it was just for her. Like he was just for her.

Without thinking, she reached for his hand and held it. He didn’t resist, instead sliding his fingers in the spaces between hers. He looked down at their hands; his were so much bigger than hers. Prominent veins ran through the surface whereas the back of her hand was mostly smooth. His skin was cream and hers was champagne. He had cool undertones whereas she had warm undertones. His nails were groomed and clean, whereas hers were bitten and covered in flakey patches of old polish. His hand was big and wide whereas hers was small and slender.

“Everything alright, baby?”

She had to bite her lip and tighten her posture to suppress a flinch.

“Ben?”

His eyes idly drifted from their hands to her face. His expression was soft. “Hmm?”

She looked at their hands entangled for a moment before withdrawing hers. His hand twitched at the loss; her hand felt cold now. She took a deep breath. “Can we skip playing today? I just... I just want to hang out, I think. Take a break from work and just... forget. Just for today.”

He reached out and tucked some loose hair behind her ear, letting his knuckles linger against her cheek for a moment before pulling back. “Of course.”

* * *

They decided to just drive that afternoon. Rey seemed a bit distracted, so she asked that Ben decide for them.

They started in Santa Monica, deciding to grab a few things and fill up on gas before taking off. Whatever was on her mind seemed to fade away as he took them along the coast.

“Where are we going?” Rey asked as they were passing through Malibu. The clouds were dark gray but golden sunlight slipped through the cracks, causing everything outside to look crisp. The Pacific Ocean seemed bluer than usual; the palm trees and various forms of plant life seemed greener. They rolled down the windows, causing the brisk, late autumn air run through the car and billow through their hair.

Ben had figured he’d drive until Rey picked somewhere to stop. He shrugged, “I’m not sure.”

She scoffed at that. “Obviously it’s somewhere up the coast!” They had to raise their voices to be heard among the loud wind that surrounded them.

He gave her teasing side-eye and smirked, then tilted his head to the left where the unending line of blue water continued. “Huh, wonder how you came to that conclusion!”

She huffed and threw her arms over her torso. “You didn’t answer my question, you know!”

He just smiled. “I’m just driving. You tell me where you want to go.”

“I told you,” she groaned with feigned exasperation. “You could pick somewhere! I didn’t really have anything in mind.”

He thought about whether or not he should say what he was about to, unsure of how far he could take his comments. “Well I just wanna be with you, so I don’t really care where we go either.”

His eyes drifted from the road to her in hopes of catching a reaction. He was desperately hoping to find some kind of indication that she felt something. Anything, really. He always looked for those little bits of _something_ in her expression; those bits were enough to keep him hopeful. He could’ve sworn he’d seen her blush before, smile, or even just fidget as if she had been livened up, but he couldn’t say for sure.

There was always a fine line when it came to saying these things; he didn’t want to say too much and jeopardize whatever dynamic they had going in the moment, but he also wanted to gradually take it up a notch and reach her.

It was a cowardly method, he knew, but he really was trying his best. He was dying for her her to know how he felt; he felt trapped and like the only way he could reach her was by sending out smoke signals in hopes she saw them by chance. He wished there was a way for him to know that _she_ knew, without him having to take the plunge and say it. That way, if she still didn’t want him, they could just go on pretending nothing happened.

Like nothing had _ever_ happened.

He could nearly hear his heart breaking apart in the silence that followed. Urgency rose within him; urgency to compensate or backtrack. To say whatever he could muster the courage for and fill the silence.

He wanted to say was, ‘ _all I ever want is just to be with you, and for you to want that too._ ’

But instead, he went with, “we always have fun together. You’re my friend and I enjoy your company.”

“Same here,” she said with a small smile. She always responded quicker when he downplayed it, so he could only conclude that it put her back at ease.

He liked knowing their boundaries. That way there’d be no chance he would ever fully cross them and push her limits. Or risk losing her. That was a mistake he promised himself he wouldn’t make again. Smoke signals would have to be enough to sustain him.

Even if he ended up burning alive, all by himself in the end.

Rey asked Ben to stop when they reached Santa Barbara a few hours later. It was around three-thirty and the sky was getting a bit darker as the hour got later. They didn’t mind, though. Bad weather never stopped them before.

He wanted to hold her hand again as they walked through the damp sand along the shore. They’d held hands before, but only for a few moments at a time. Times when neither of them could hold back anymore and needed to feel the touch of the other.

He was taken aback when she reached for his hand earlier, but he knew better than to question it. Rey usually held his hand when she needed comfort; he had a feeling that there was something bothering her earlier and wanted to ask her about it, but decided to let it go now she was acting perfectly fine. She was quite happy, actually.

As they went on, he couldn’t help but wonder whatever happened with that guy, Poe. Rey hadn’t mentioned him at all since they talked after the date, so he convinced himself there was no need for him to go and be the one to bring him up. Right now, it was nice. It was right, as if being together was the most natural thing in the world and was the they were meant to be.

The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it.

She challenged him to race her from one abandoned lifeguard tower to the other, only stopping when her bare food had got caught in some of the thick, sinking sand, causing her to tumble.

He was a little bit ahead of her but immediately ran to her, kneeling down to extend his hand to her.

“You okay, Kid?” The worry in his voice must’ve been apparent because Rey’s cheeks turned pink.

Whatever hesitation she had was gone as soon as she grabbed it, bringing him down with her.

“Hey!” He whined as his bottom hit the ground and his back pressed into the sand. The ocean water touched his toes and the sand was still wet from the currents, causing it to seep through the material of his sweater.

She was cracking up, still holding his hand as she voluntarily leaned back as well.

Her laugh was probably his most favorite sound in the world. It was just as mesmerizing as when she sang, as far as Ben was concerned.

Most people hadn’t heard her laugh; not her true laugh, anyway. In front of people she didn’t know as well, her laughs were more similar to chirps and giggles. She’d cover her mouth as some kind of unnecessary courtesy and immediately stop laughing as soon as it was no longer necessary.

When she really laughed though, pure joy rumbled out from her. The sound was robust and hearty; the hiccups and tempo weren’t consistent and uptight, like she had planned how she wanted to sound. It was more like chortling, really.

She thought she sounded goofy and loud. She was unable to stop once she started. Her eyes would nearly disappear as thin crescents, most of her face then being made up of rosy cheek and perfect, slightly large teeth. Her eyes would get wet at the corners and somehow her hair always got massively tangled as her body buzzed around.

It was happiness personified, and Ben couldn’t really think of a more beautiful way to have her.

Neither of them were in any hurry to get up, despite the coldness of the ground below them soaking into their clothes. Even though the sky was mostly obscured by angry storm clouds, they kept their eyes fixed upward.

“That one,” Rey pointed to the left and lifted her finger up. “What do you see in that one?”

The cloud she was pointing at was a bit darker and thicker than the rest of the bunch.

“Hmm.” Ben had to think for a moment. It had been a while since they last did this, but he knew he could find something if he took his time.

“It looks kind of like a stegosaurus. It’s all bumpy on the top and the ends are pointy. Its head is facing right. Cause the back is a little longer, which would be the tail.”

Rey hummed with amusement. “I can see that. Great eye.”

Ben pointed toward the horizon point at one of the lighter, thinner clouds. “What about that one?”

He could hear her take a deep breath and in the corner of his eye he saw her move her hand to cover her eyes. She always did that whenever they played this game; she told him it helped her think better.

_‘I can hear my thoughts more clearly when I dull one of my senses. So if I don’t see, I can think louder.’_

It made no sense, but who was he to question her?

Once she moved her hand, she raised her head slightly to get a better look and her features pinched in concentration.

Her lips made a ‘smack’ sound. “It looks like a bus to me.”

He angled his head to the right so he could be facing her. “Where do you think it’s off to?”

“Mmm... the front of it is facing east. And,” she licked her finger and stuck it in the air, causing him to laugh. “The wind is blowing north. So that must mean it’s heading to the northeast, obviously. I think it’s off to...” her voice trailed off and her expression softened. “To Seneca. It’s going home.”

Her answer was not lost on him. He watched her with baited breath, unsure which of them would speak first.

He had left Seneca behind a year ago.

Rey left it behind six years ago, save for one visit four years ago.

They could relive and recollect the memories of Seneca, but they rarely spoke about them directly. It was too big of a topic for the few words they allowed themselves to say.

The sounds of the waves and seagulls seemed to go mute as soon as he spoke. All he could hear was the hesitation in his voice and rapid beat of the blood running through him. “Do you ever wish you were on that bus?”

As expected, she waited a bit before finally responding. He could hear her swallow, perhaps debating whether or not she would answer at all. “Sometimes I do.”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her even though she refused to look his way. “Yeah, me too.”

She turned to her side and held her head in her hand, arm propped up at the elbow. She drew messy little circles in the sand with her finger and just stared at the way the sand would engulf it.

She met his eyes. “Are you happy, Ben?”

He resisted the urge to run his sand-ridden fingers through his hair, instead using his hand to mirror her pose so he could face her better. “I think so. Mostly. But it’s enough. I’ll take it.”

She gave him a loose nod. Her eyes danced from his face to the ground to the sea ahead. “I know what you mean.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

She smirked as she resumed her designs in the sand. “I wish I didn’t either. I wish you didn’t to begin with.”

The cold, wet ocean breeze grazed against his skin, making it feel tight. The wind was hitting his back and Rey’s face directly. If he felt cold, she must’ve been freezing.

On instinct he reached for her, cupping his hand along her cheeks, which were only growing pinker among the cold. She held his eye as she leaned into his touch, but then looked away.

“What would make you happy, Rey?” He murmured.

Her pupils were blown and the surface of her eyes had become glossy. She frowned and her shoulder raised with a shrug.

“What would make you happy, Ben?” She murmured back.

He wished she could look him in the eye. She just couldn’t, though.

“For you to be happy.”

A smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes formed. His thumb traced gentle, broad lines along the dimple that protruded when she smiled.

“I... I’m happy, I think. Happy enough.”

She then brought her hand to his and ran her palm against the back of it, caressing his caress before gently moving his hand away from her face.

She shifted a bit so they were no longer as close. Even though their bodies weren’t touching, he felt the loss of her all over.

“How, um,” she started as she returned to looking at the sky, “how is it with your parents right now?”

_Oh. That._

Talking about them should’ve been easier now than it ever was before, but it still caused his stomach to churn slightly.

His hands rested against his abdomen and his knees bent up, allowing for his foot to tap against the sand, following no rhythm in particular. Sometimes tapping eased his nerves.

“Nothing new, I guess. I think they’re coming down in a couple of weeks.”

Rey nodded, sitting up a bit to position herself as he had. “Did your mother tell you that, or your father?”

Without meaning to, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “My dad is definitely not the trip-planning kind. Mom told me over text the other day, probably to make sure I’ll have the guest room ready for them.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t staying at a hotel.”

“I think they have it in their minds that it’s not too late to live under the same roof as a family. I think it’s their way of making up for lost times.”

“They’re trying, Ben,” she said in a small voice.

Rey always avoided speaking badly of Han and Leia. He couldn’t really blame her; they were better parents to her than they were to him most of the time. Plus, he knew when it came to family, Rey was more forgiving than he was. Sometimes he resented it, but he reminded himself that if it weren’t for that, perhaps she wouldn’t be as strong as she was; maybe instead of sweetness, she would be filled with bitterness. And instead of bringing out the best in him, maybe she would evoke the worst.

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

She considered him for a moment. “I think they’ve always tried for you, Ben. In different ways. Maybe not the right ways. But I can’t imagine anyone knowing you and not loving you. Which is why I wish I could take your pain away and just... just help you. Help you heal from the scars. Help you be happy, not just content. Because happiness was made for someone like you.”

It was like her words seeped into his skin and found their way to his heart, causing it to melt and break in one movement, all to be mended back in the next. He didn’t deserve to be happy; how could he deserve something he never was bold enough to reach for? He knew he could be happy, and it scared him.

A lot of things scared Ben.

Like a force of gravity, he leaned in and only stopped when his lips brushed against her soft skin and his nose was nestled into her temple; both of them were cold.

“I wish there were words stronger than ‘I love you.’”

Her hand raised and hovered over the side of his face, causing him to wonder if she was about to move his face away. Instead, she slid her fingers in his hair and gave the lightest tug to bring him in deeper.

The small, obscure patterns she had made against the sand were now being made along the crown of his head.

He never knew what to make of these touches. These gaps and tears in the lines they never crossed. All he knew was how good it felt to be close to her and have her like that. For her to let him have her. Even if it was only for a moment.

And when they broke apart, her eyes were like glass. But this time they were looking into his, and the smile on her face reached them.

He felt so much whenever she looked at him like that. Like she was happy.

And whenever she looked at him like that, like he was the cause of her happiness, he felt hopeful that maybe one day she really would be happy. And perhaps, by some miraculous force, he could be part of that.

She looked at him like that even after the quietness of the moment had subsided and they continued their walk with linked arms. She looked at him like that once they were back in the car and he drove them home through light rain as the night came on, only to turn around when he caught her looking his way. She looked at him like that even when he had dropped her off at her door. When he said goodbye and she stopped him before leaving, acting like she wanted to say something. Her voice had been low and uncertain, but when he turned back, time nearly stopped; she took in the sight of him and the look on her face was back once again. She told him she just wanted to thank him again for the perfect day they had.

And despite feeling rueful that a perfect day with perfect _her_ had come to its end as he walked back to his car, he thought that maybe it was possible that he would have her one day.

He felt a new resolve as he played through his song for her before bed. He would ask her to come by and he would really try this time.

He sent her a message before settling into bed.

**‘Can I see you tomorrow? I think the song is ready and I think you’ll like it. I hope you will, anyway. I um... I even wrote some lyrics too. If you’re interested in hearing them.’**

She responded immediately.

**‘I’ll be there. <3’**

He drifted to sleep with a heart full of hope and a mind full of certainty. This was it. He would do whatever it took to have her.

Even just for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song references:
> 
> Exile by Taylor Swift (feat. Bon Iver)
> 
> Willow by Taylor Swift
> 
> Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift
> 
> ‘Tis the damn season by Taylor Swift
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, as well as reaching out to me on twitter! As always, I encourage you to let me know what you think of the story! Your feedback is priceless!! 
> 
> Say hi to me on twitter :))
> 
> Www.twitter.com/ang3lview


	7. exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben are given the opportunity to finish something they started all those years back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi

Rey would be arriving soon, ready to hear the what Ben had so far for the song.

The music itself was just about done; he might adjust a few things, depending on her thoughts of it, but it was just about complete and could be played from start to end.

He was nervous. He always was a nervous when it came to Rey, but today was especially significant. Not only was today the day that Ben would play his song for Rey, but it was also the day he was going to tell her.

Once and for all.

...sort of.

He was still reeling from the day before. It was just so perfect— Rey was perfect (as always), the beach was perfect, their drive was perfect... those moments that gave him a glimmer of hope that it wasn’t just he who felt it. That maybe there really was founded hope for something to just _work_.

So it had to be perfect.

This was not the first song he wrote for Rey or about Rey. Anytime he managed to come up with something particularly nice, he wanted to share it with Rey. She was the inspiration behind most of his best compositions so if she wanted to use any of them for her work, he was happy to let her. She was incredible when it came to her instincts; whether it be the melody, lyrics, or singing, she was remarkable, so her admiration was the highest compliment.

He seldom ever shared any of the lyrics he came up with though. It wasn’t just because he didn’t think they were any good, but he always felt like he was taking too big of a risk by sharing them with her.

If she read some of the things he had written, it’d be over. It was painfully obvious that he had written about her and if she saw that, saw that he was incapable of letting her go or being without her.

But it was inevitable; he knew she had to know it eventually. And if that was the case, he wanted to tell her on his own terms.

Or try to.

_Again._

He shook his head and worried his bottom lip.

_No need to think of that right now._

Today would be the start of something. Something that should’ve started long ago, really.

He found himself reaching for the photo chest, searching for a specific photo. It was a candid photo of Rey and him at the piano, one of the many times they could be found playing together over the summers they spent together.

_‘Rey and me— ‘Mean’ session— June 13, 2013.’_

As he studied it, he realized that the raptly devoted expression on his seventeen-year-old face hadn’t changed at all, ever-present on his twenty-six year old face.

She was being playful, he remembered. She had a cheeky little smirk on her face as she read some new lyrics out of her notebook; it was kind of like her own version of a ‘burn book,’ but much more enriching. She had been telling him a story, something about a customer coming into the shop and making comments about the fact that a girl was able to repair cars like a pro.

He chuckled, remembering how mad he got along with her.

‘ _What an asshole. The next time he comes in, tell me and I’ll deal with him,’ he told her._

_She giggled and her eyes narrowed like a cat. ‘Don’t you worry about that. That’s what I wanted to show you, actually. Something good came out of dealing with that tosser.’_

That night, she showed him the lyrics for a song that ended up being the sixth song on her third album.

A song that went platinum, to be specific.

‘ _Someday, I’ll be_

_Livin’ in a big ole city,_

_And all you’re ever gonna be is_

_Mean_.’

_That_ was a fun night.

He gently swiped his thumb against her image, his heart swelling with fondness. His clever girl.

After putting the photo back and returning the chest to his closet, he went down to the music room to prepare for Rey’s arrival.

He had intended to go over the song a few more times before she got there, but his mind was elsewhere.

He was transfixed on a certain memory. It had been on the surface of his thoughts since the day before, but seeing that photo only made it more vivid.

It was that first Tuesday of July, 2012.

His dad was in his den, talking to one of the part-suppliers. He told him he would probably be finished by the time Rey was supposed to get there, but from the sounds coming from the call, that didn’t seem likely.

Ben checked his watch; it was around 5:45 PM, so Rey would be arriving in the next twenty or so minutes. She usually arrived a bit late, so he factored that in when giving himself a time frame.

He was nervous. He had promised himself that he would be present when Rey arrived so he could greet her properly this time, and maybe try his hand at acting like a normal guy who talks to girls all the time and doesn’t almost immediately melt upon contact, but his intentions were at war with his nature. He made an effort to look nice, though. Instead of the usual white T-shirt and black jeans, he went for a black henley and blue jeans, and he put some gel through his hair and tried his best to comb it nicely. He even made sure to brush his teeth and extra time and rinse with mouthwash, despite not having had anything to eat for the past few hours; why he did this he wasn’t sure— it wasn’t like he and Rey would even be in that close of proximity to each other and thus required him having fresh breath. Probably.

Leia had always had him brush his teeth thoroughly before she took him to any of those gaudy, loud, fancy dinner parties and events. She told him it was important that he look his best for important events, so maybe that’s where he got that from. It wasn’t like he had imagined of some freak, teen romcom-esque incident occurring where he and Rey would trip over each other and would end up kissing and thus he had to make a good, minty impression or anything.

Really, why he was going through all these extra steps and dressing himself up was beyond him. It wasn’t like he wanted to _impress_ Rey or anything... she was just a dumb kid. She was coming over to learn how to play guitar, not to see him or anything. And even if she was, it’s not like it mattered to him. They hardly know each other, so why should he care what she thinks? If she likes him or not? The most he could see is them being _friendly acquaintances_ , if that.

He huffed as he took a seat on the bench that accompanied Han’s worn-out St. Regis. Rey was probably just a silly girl who probably had all these other boys around town fawning over her, so she probably liked someone else anyway. Which, of course, was fine by Ben.

His slim, bony fingers skimmed over the keys once he pushed the wooden cover back. He didn’t have anything in mind to play, but was in the mood to play something.

That was what he liked most about piano. It was a miraculous instrument that could produce millions of songs with just a few different keys, the way an artist can create a vivid image with thousands of variations of the same few colors and strokes.

When he knew which notes sound nice together and how to sway each movement in the right tempo, he could have something truly lovely.

It was almost like creating patterns. The repetitive, seamless process of threading one thing with another, like putting a puzzle together. In his mind’s eye, he could practically see it: an image of the sound. The essence of something greater than him that he endeavored to capture in way of sound.

A crisp, muted ivy green color, for example. Along with it, the feelings and senses the color evokes: serenity, coolness, breezy wind, crunchy and even, like the crackle that comes when stepping on a leaf. And yet, it had round edges— smooth and fluent, like when the wind carries its casualties through the air or the movements of a droplet of rain cascading against the window and colliding into another, rolling faster and fuller into another drop.

The color could be such a specific experience, minute and ordinary, yet vivid and unique in its composition. There could be billions of hues similar to that shade of green, but the specific one he visualizes is entirely unique.

And it has sounds.

That pale, ivy green sounds F key.

One scale higher and it’s nearly unrecognizable. He could gage when he played it right when it sounds like that specific color: ivy green.

Most of his favorite songs were green.

‘Asleep’ by The Smiths is an ivy green colored song.

‘My Eyes Adored You’ by Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons is the darkest shade of green, like the deepest corner of the forest.

‘Walk In The Park’ by Beach House is the richest. True green, vibrant and sharp like grass on a summer morning.

Lately though, he had been playing songs of a monochromatic or sepia theme.

‘Back To The Old House’ by The Smiths was a grainy, rich brown that had the lightest tint of red. Like rust.

‘Only Ones Who Know’ by The Arctic Monkeys was light gray, like the illumination of light reflected off of metal or the color of the sky when it stormed early in the day.

‘The Reeling’ by Passion Pit was pewter. Tiny, barely noticeable flecks of silver, maybe. A bit metallic. But stripped down, that powdery, gritty charcoal color underneath the glow of pewter.

‘Come Back Home’ by Two Door Cinema Club was just pure black. Maybe there was a slight shine to it, like the way a black marble would glisten against the light, but it was classic black.

‘Walk The Line,’ by Johnny Cash, when tapered down and lowered to his preferred pitch, was coffee-stain brown.

He recalled what his mother had said when he tried to explain this to her.

He had been learning ‘Hallelujah’ by Lenard Cohen— that was the first song she had him learn on the piano. He was about ten or eleven years old at the time, which was also around the time he started to notice Leia took every chance she got to be out of the house. Maybe by insisting that he learn to play the piano, her conscience was put at ease: at least Ben could have music, if nothing else.

He had a knack for it from the very start. Playing by ear and fiddling around, seeing what sounded best, was instinctual. He liked that he was able to impress Leia with piano; it took a lot to get her attention those days.

She didnt have time to teach her himself, since she had just gotten a job that constantly took her out of town. Some music company, apparently. Rebellion Media. He’d been told a lot of famous people had contracts with that company. He didn’t know all the ins and outs of her job, but he did know she must have been great at it, seeing as they needed her to work so much.

He had asked countless times if Han could teach him over the winter break, but Han never had the time either. Plus, Han would’ve preferred for Ben to learn the guitar instead.

‘ _Leave it to your mother to make you play piano. Always has to go that extra mile. Suddenly acoustic guitar isn’t good enough for her. Probably wants to make you the next Liberace to show you off to all those hotshots she works with,_ ’ _he’d said._

Han was also picking up on the fact that Leia was becoming unimpressed with their quiet life in Seneca. It should’ve consoled Ben, to know that it wasn’t just him Leia constantly glossed over, but for some reason it didn’t console him at all.

‘ _Everyone plays the guitar, Ben_ ,’ _she sighed one morning as she dropped him off at his new instructor’s studio in Rochester. Getting there required a long drive, filled with unassuming, dull, dried-up winter landscapes; umber tree stocks burnt by frost, branches reaching to the sky like claws. Random patches of ice here and there, contrasted with the lifeless juniper fields. Leia always had new music for them to listen to though, and some of it was pretty cool._

_‘Stick with piano. You’re already a natural. You’ll love it.’_

She was right about that, at least. He did love it.

_‘But mom,’ he protested under his breath. He could meet his mother’s gaze from the rear-view mirror, deep brown eyes lined with smudged eyeliner narrowed at him. ‘Mr. Snoke doesn’t even teach it the right way.’_

_Leia chuckled and shook her head, causing her gold-tinted brown hair to sway around her shoulders. She found her first gray hair that year. ‘Of course he’s teaching you the right way, hun. He’s the best in the county, and I’ve heard him play and he’s simply divine. You’re in good hands.’_

_‘But the song... he keeps making me play it the wrong way. When it’s his way, it’s too yellow.’_

_Even though he could only see the side of Leia’s face, he could tell that her expression had dried and become completely sober; he could tell by the purse of her lips. ‘Yellow? What do you mean ‘yellow,’ Ben?’_

_‘The color of it. Mr. Snoke says it should be ‘treble clef,’ whatever that means, but that’s not right. It’s too sharp and pointy and bright and doesn’t even sound like the actual song.’_

_She didn’t speak for a moment, perhaps trying to make sense of what he was saying. Why she was confused was beyond him, though. Sounds come in colors; didn’t she know that? The high-pitched, lighter sounds were shades of yellow and bright red, or even neon white. And they were pointed like pins and triangles. The lower sounds were dark colors, like deep blue, muted green, soggy brown, rich burgundy, cement gray, even black. They were closer to the ground, whereas the high-pitched ones shot up like beams. The low sounds were curved, like an underbelly. They went deep and low, like tunnels. Low sounds were like swallowing a mouthful of dark chocolate or dirt. They were curved like circles, but didn’t have definitive points and prickles like the high-pitched ones._

_The E key was darker than the A key— A was sharp but bright, like marigold, whereas E was a deep coffee color. And striking the G key in between each one made for a seamless transition— a golden, rich sienna. It was a harmonious ombre, cascading its gradient like ribbon. Any other way would be like painting the light of day with black ink._

_And the sounds in between were lines. Some straight, some twirled. And they always moved. Those lines were a means to an end, an in-between that could connect one end of the spectrum to the other, whether it be in a parallel line serving as a pathway, a line that curved in the center and curved in the center like a threshold, or held everything together nearly like a bow tie._

_‘Ben,’ Leia groaned, moving her other hand from the steering wheel for a moment to wipe her forehead. ‘Just... just do whatever Mr. Snoke tells you to, okay? He knows better. Don’t create more work for yourself... or for him, or for me.’_

_He didn’t say anything after that. They were getting close to Snoke’s studio, anyway. No point in getting into another argument._

To Ben, it was like being told to paint the ocean or sky yellow instead of blue. It just wasn’t right. He’d seen the ocean and sky with his own eyes and knew it should be blue— just like he’d heard the song in its original form with his own ears. He got the sense of it, and thus had an idea of what it should sound like. Whatever version Mr. Snoke was having him learned just sounded _wrong_.

He used to believe that everyone saw things that way, so conveying the profuse connection between one sense to the other was never something Ben realized he needed to do. So he couldn’t. How could he describe colors that didn’t exist in the real world? How could he mimic the sounds of the color blue?

How could he explain to the world how wrong they are when he sees that the sky is blue, but everyone else says it’s yellow? That was simply the way Ben existed in the world— or, technically, the way the world existed to Ben.

He didn’t bother trying to explain this to Mr. Snoke beyond mentioning it. He told him that when he heard certain sounds, he could see the sound manifest as a color and shape; with that came light and movement.

_Snoke just scoffed and folded his arms across his exaggerated gold-colored pea coat. The thin lines that made up his mouth were always down turned in a bitter scowl, but his piercing, icy blue eyes narrowed especially meanly at Ben when he said that._

_‘I’m being payed to teach you to play the piano, Mr. Solo,’he droned on, adjusting the little square metal-rimmed glasses that rested on the bridge of his bony nose. “I have no time and take no pleasure in your childish musings. Perhaps your mother should have stuck you with a box of Crayola crayons instead of professional music lessons so as to keep you busy.’_

That was the way it was with Snoke. Sure, he certainly was masterful when it came to the piano— there was a reason behind him being deemed as one of the best in the states, Ben had to give him that— but each lesson left Ben filled with emptiness rather than enlightenment.

What he learned from Snoke was all sterile, indifferent, methodic tips and tricks; Snoke’s way of teaching put distance between Ben and the music. He didn’t feel that instinctual sense of connection and familiarity to sound and melody he had known before. It felt like he was trying to push against a plain brick wall, waiting for it to move; it would never move. It began to feel more like a chore than a passion. He had the tools he needed to create, but he had lost his will and inspiration to create.

He’d like to blame Snoke for that. The snuffing out of his creative senses and will; the throttling blow to his self-esteem and perception of reality. He made him feel like he was weird and wrong for intermingling his senses, and like that made him semi incapable of mastering music. To Snoke, piano was a methodical, arid procedure, treated with the same practicality and fastidiousness that a surgeon would utilize while performing surgery. He took no personal joy in playing, as if enjoying the process would be disrespectful. And he did his best to instill that same unwarranted fear in Ben.

If Ben had to guess how Snoke would see sound (if he could), he’d guess his primary color palette was monochromatic: thick black, just one shade of white, silver like coins, and at best, red like blood.

He still continued playing, though. Even if he didn’t enjoy himself, he still kept at it. It was a habit at that point, even if he felt uninspired. Playing calmed his nerves, so he played.

He started by hitting each key from left to right, hearing the gradual rise from the lowest note to the highest note. Snoke had discouraged him from playing around like that, saying it was childish, but he did it anyway.

_‘Where should I start if I want to write a song?’ He had asked Snoke during one of their lessons._

_Snoke clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, face as sour as ever. ‘The era for greatness is behind you, Solo. You missed it. All the music of today is nothing but noise. Ugly, loud, obnoxious sounds that leave the palet tainted, perverted with the aftertaste of cough syrup and rotten fruit. All original ideas have already been thought out by those before you. Don’t make me waste my time any further on contemporary composition, boy.’_

Any and all contemporary songs Ben knew how to play were learned on his own time, mostly after his lessons with Snoke had ceased. He was under Snoke’s instruction for two years, only stopping when Leia had decided to move to Los Angeles in 2008, forcing Ben to uproot his life and go with her.

That was the only good thing Ben got out of the whole experience— not having to spend his Monday/Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings with Snoke, having to smile and superficially agree with his cruel criticism and aberrant, dry commentary.

He believed what Snoke had said, though. That trying to write his own songs would be pointless. He didn’t believe that the era of great artistry had ended; there were plenty of newer artists Ben loved. But he didn’t think he could be one of them.

And he didn’t really want to be, anyway.

He had no interest in becoming part of the industry. He knew how it was just by the glances he’d had in his mother’s company. Being pushed and prodded, tailored and groomed into fitting under the spotlight. Working with an endless que of Snokes, only disguised by superficialities and plastic surgery.

Plus, as ridiculous as he felt it was, there was an underlying resentment he had developed for the entertainment industry. It was almost like a contemptuous grudge, really.

Because as far as Ben was concerned, the industry took his mom away.

And with that, it took everything else away from him too.

Everything about it made him angry, blurring his vision into hot red and orange, sizzling like a fiery beast.

His mindless pressing of the keys had somehow turned into a rapid assault of the instrument, furiously moving about in tune to Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 7.

It was like running up an endless spiral staircase that only grew in obscurity the higher up he went. Flames flirted with the darkness on each side, each one sizing up more and more just before its death, only to be proceeded by the next one. It was rageful and pointless— a billowy waste of energy, but it only burned on with consumption and power. He felt afraid; he felt venomous. He didn’t know if he was running away from the fire, or running to it.

The ivory keys burned the pads of his fingers, each press followed by a hollow echo from the force of each blow. It was sloppy and gritty, the way he was going at it, but he wasn’t listening for mistakes at that point; he was consumed by the sight that filled his ears and ran through his blood, coasting like lava.

And the breath he took once he hit the last note was an ozone of ashes and smoke.

He was only made aware that he had reached the end of the song when he heard the sound of clapping.

The tension that had been released from his shoulders immediately returned, causing his entire body to go stiff and rigid.

How long he had been playing, he didn’t know. He clearly lost track of time though because leaning against the doorframe was Rey. She stood there, body slack and curved along the wall like she had been there for some time, just watching him.

“Rey,” he forced out breathlessly.

Her eyes were wide, sparkling with stargaze. She was almost as flushed as he probably was; her skin gleamed with sweat but she still had that familiar freshness in her complexion. She let out a breath, leaving her lips parted, exposing the majority of her lower teeth and the straight caps of her top ones. She was winded, like him.

“That... that was...,” she babbled with a slow shake of the head.

His mouth went dry and his stomach twisted. Was she impressed or disturbed? He didn’t like playing for people. He became all too aware of any and all mistakes he made along the way when he knew others were listening, which only further sabotaged his performance even more.

But knowing she was listening and watching him play without him realizing it was just as upsetting, if not more so. The way she was looking at him made him feel like she was a damsel in a fairytale who had just stumbled upon the evil monster’s lair; he might as well have had his hair slicked back completely and donned a pointed cape around his shoulders based on the way she stared at him.

Playing the piano shouldn’t be such an intimate act, leaving one feeling so vulnerable and prone... but for Ben, it did. It made him feel naked and like his skin was tattered with crawling shivers; he felt like he was on fire.

And not in the good way.

“I— um,” he spattered, crossing his arms over his abdomen, “you don’t— you don’t have to say anything, I didn’t know anyone was listening so I was just messing around. Sorry, it was probably really awful.”

Rey’s face scrunched and her posture straightened. Random tresses of hair fell out of her ponytail, framing her face beautifully as she shook her head.

She took a few steps into the room, approaching Ben. “Ben. That was fantastic. You’re— you’re amazing. Oh my god. I— I’ve never heard anyone play like that before. That was...,” she bit her bottom lip as she got a bit closer. “That was stunning. I’m absolutely gobsmacked.”

Ben didn’t think it was possible for his cheeks to get pinker than they already were, but then Rey went and said that. He had been complimented on his playing before, but not like that. Not with such reverent, candid awe. The way Rey said it almost made it feel like a promise— a promise that he was good enough.

“Tha— thank you,” was all he could manage out. He swallowed roughly and moved his fingers through his hair, forgetting that he had tried styling it. “I um... I don’t usually play songs like that. The intense... harsh kind of songs.”

_Stop talking! Don’t make this weird!...er. Weirder!_

It was the first time in knowing her that Rey didn’t advert her eyes away from his. Normally long pauses like that made Ben feel awkward, but he couldn’t bother noticing it; he was too consumed by her eyes. It was the first time he’d truly been able to get a good look at them.

They were wild eyes. He could see forests and jungles in them; every shade of green could be found in her eyes, pierced against the flecks of gold and honey. He didn’t know there was that much green in the whole galaxy, and yet it was all there— in her eyes.

He decided right then and there that she was his favorite color.

She was the first to look away, refocusing her view on her clasped hands. “No, no that was outstanding. I loved it.”

He only looked away when she raised her head up again. He mirrored the way she was fidgeting with her fingers, giving himself something to busy himself with as well. “Thank you. I don’t usually play in front of people.”

_What an insufferable thing to say. Way to go, Solo._

“Why is that?” She frowned.

“I just don’t really like doing it.”

_Back at it again with screwing this up._

She pouted and crossed her arms. He only then noticed that she was wearing a little dress under an oversized, beaten olive green cardigan. The dress was yellow and had small white flowers on it, and it showed off her toned arms and long legs. Rey didn’t strike him as a dress-wearing kind of girl; he liked how she usually dressed, with the distressed denim shorts and big, comfy T shirts. It was different and he liked that.

But he definitely didn’t mind seeing her in a dress either. She made the dress look beautiful.

_That’d be pretty for a date or something._

_Like if she did that. With someone. Anyone. In general._

_Or whatever. I don’t care._

“Could you maybe... maybe show me sometime? Play me something, maybe teach me how to play too?”

The question took him by surprise. He had never heard shyness in her voice before that. She always spoke with resolution and confidence, something he wished he could do. But her question was asked softly, as if it was made of spun-sugar. Words looked pretty when she spoke; brilliant yellows, sweet oranges, blushed pinks and kiss-print reds. Twirled and ornate like calligraphy. They glowed like sunlight, brightening everything else. Her voice was soft and sweet, like fresh berries in the summertime.

_I mean, I wish I could but usually I’m pretty busy and—_

“Yes,” he nodded despite himself. “Yeah. Yes. Sure. I can... I could show you some stuff. Play something for you.”

He couldn’t believe he was saying yes. Performing in front of others was already a struggle for him, and this was Rey he was agreeing to. Rey, who instilled a special brand of nervousness and fascination in him. Rey, who had an inexplicable talent for making him feel like he was floating on a cloud but was at risk for tumbling back down to the ground at any moment.

And yet agreeing to play for her was so instinctual. There was something about her that made him feel seen; like she saw everything he normally tried to hide. And he had no other choice but to submit to her; render himself vulnerable, open to her gaze. She’d see everything anyway.

Perhaps, in part, it was Rey’s honesty and rawness that enticed him to play for her. If she thought he played poorly, he didn’t doubt she would probably say something about it. They hadn’t known each other too long by that point, but based on the time they’d spent on the same projects at the garage, she had no problem calling him out whenever he messed up.

Like the other day when they were fixing a leak on a 1998 Nissan Altima. She was under the car as Ben slipped out to hand her a tool.

_‘It’s not that one,’ she pointed to the right side of wall of wrenches across from them. Her right was his left, so he reached for the wrong one._

_He moved his hand to the next wrench._

_‘No.’_

_Next one._

_‘The one I’m pointing to.’_

_Next one._

_‘No...’_

_Next one._

_‘No!!!’ She hissed as her legs thrashed and feet stomped against the ground._

_‘Could you please stop yelling at me, you’re stressing me out!’ He shot back. He was frustrated because she just had gestured to the general vicinity, as if there weren’t numerous wrenches to choose from._

_She groaned in exasperation as she slid out from under and got to her feet. She had some blackish grime on her cheeks and her features were pinched in anger, but she looked really cute nonetheless._

_She aggressively thrusted her arm to the right again, more pointedly this time. ‘If we don’t patch this up, the tap will overflow and flood this garage with poisonous gas!’_

_He reached for the wrench hanging at farthest point of his left side. ‘This?!’_

_‘Yes!’ She said as he tossed it to her and rejoined her in the repair._

The excitement was instantly visible on her face. Her entire form lit up and she gaped like she was also at a loss for words, like she thought he was going to turn her down and away.

_As if I could._

Before he could even blink, she slid right next to him on the bench and cupped her hands together against the edge of the keyboard, then tilted her head to him with an expectant look. The coy little grin she gave made her dimples pop, making it almost impossible for him to turn away.

Ben’s eyes went to where their bodies were joined, shoulder-against-shoulder, causing Rey to realize how close they actually were; her eyes went wide and she scooted to the side a bit more, creating a friendly distance between them.

She looked down to her lap and tucked the loose hair behind her ear; he made note that she was similar to him in that way too— they both fixed their hair when they were nervous.

“What should I play?” His voice came out lower than he meant it to.

She looked up from her lashes and toyed with the little beaded daisy chain ring on one of her index fingers. It looked homemade and suited her nicely. Her shoulders rolled with a slight shrug. “You tell me. Whatever you’d like. What did you start with when you learned?”

He grimaced. ‘Hallelujah’ was nice, but he grew to hate it eventually, given how painstaking it was to learn under Snoke’s instruction. He didn’t want to instill the idea that only certain songs were meant for the piano, thus limiting Rey’s range and creativity as Snoke had limited his. He wanted her to have fun with it.

“I don’t actually remember which song I started with,” he fibbed. “How about... hmm.”

He tried to be thoughtful about his selection, wanting to pick something he thought Rey might like, but it was as if he had never heard music before in that moment; he couldn’t think of anything.

Then, it struck him.

“Hey,” he straightened up. “What song are you learning right now in your lessons?”

Her lips pursed and she blushed. “It’s dumb...,” she said in a small voice.

He shook his head. “No it isn’t. Tell me.”

She could be learning how to play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and he still wouldn’t think it was dumb.

She sighed and tapped her fingers against her bare knee. “It’s this one Katy Perry song. It’s a little older and it’s dumb and savvy and very pop-ish, but I don’t know, I think it’s sort of fun,” she rambled, as if she needed to justify it. “It’s her song ‘Teenage Dream.’ It’s probably not something you’ve heard.”

He actually laughed. He’d heard the whole album countless times. Leia’s company was in charge of promoting it and it was all he heard that whole summer. “Oh, I definitely have heard it.”

Rey looked embarrassed, causing him to realize she probably thought he was mocking her. His reflexes acted quicker than his brain did, causing him to reach out and put his hand on her forearm. “It’s a good song though. I really liked it,” he reassured her.

Her face lit up and her eyes trailed down to where he was touching her, causing him to retract like she burned him. “Oh,” she said softly. “That’s good, then.”

She emboldened him, making him be more assertive and friendlier he normally would be. “But I’ll only play if you sing along.”

She gasped and crossed her arms, scandalized. “Hey! That’s not fair! I want to hear you play, my singing would ruin it.”

He smirked at her and raised his brows in challenge. “How’s that not fair? Your singing would make it better, I think.”

She bit her lip to hide how wide she wanted to smile. He liked this. He liked the energy and adrenaline that was flowing through him whenever he was able to make her get all flustered like that. He liked saying sweet things to her, because they were all true and it wasn’t often that he had the chance to express what he was really thinking and feeling.

Most of all though, he liked seeing her smile and knowing that he caused it.

“Well... if I mess up, you can’t laugh. I like singing but I’m not like I’m really good or professional or anything.”

He thought he had heard her sing before, amongst all the guitar strumming and thicker voices belonging to Han and Chewie; from what he heard she sounded quite good, especially given that she had such a lovely speaking voice as is.

He just shrugged, feigning ease. “I’m sure you’re good. It’s fine if you make mistakes, it’ll make me feel better if and when I mess up playing this song too. Just have fun with it, Rey.”

That seemed to assure her and she nodded.

“I can pull up the sheet music on my iPod if you want,” she offered.

“Uh,” he hummed as he repositioned himself and his fingers hovered over the keys, “you can if you want. I think I got it, though. You tell me. Does this sound right?”

The zippy, electric melody of the intro and a bit of the first chorus filled the silence as began playing, playing the same rhythm over and over to get a feel for it. It reminded him of the tempo of lights within an arcade would sparkle and flash, light blue and deep teal flashing in and out like a grid.

Wide-eyed, Rey nodded enthusiastically. “That’s perfect.”

He nodded back, feeling a bit pleased with himself for nailing it on the first try.

He started from the beginning and turned his focus to Rey when it was time for her to begin singing.

“‘ _You think I’m pretty, without any makeup on—_

_You think I’m funny, when I tell the punchline wrong—_

_I know you get me, so I let my walls come down—_

_Down.’_ ”

Her voice drifted into the air like the fragrance of the jasmine trees blossoming on spring nights, filling his senses with new life and beauty. It started off softly, like she was gradually building courage to continue with each word she sang, but quickly grew stronger.

“‘ _Before you met me—_

_I was alright—_

_But things were kinda heavy—_

_You brought me to life—_

_Now every February—_

_You’ll be my valentine—_

_Valentine.’_ ”

He dared to lift his eyes from the keys, needing to see her face as she sang.

“ _Let’s go all—_

_The way tonight—_

_No regrets—_

_Just love—_

_We can dance—_

_Until we die—_

_You and I—‘_ “

And before he even realized it was happening, he softly joined her.

“‘ _Will be young forever._ ’”

Her eyes became bright, meeting his gaze as if she had been waiting for him to join her.

“‘ _You— make— me—_

_Feel like I’m livin’ a—_

_Teen— age— dream—_

_The way you turn me on—_

_I— can’t— sleep—_

_Let’s run away and don’t ever look back—_

_Don’t ever look back._ ’”

The force behind each thrust of his fingers grew. He felt like lightning was coursing through his veins, vibrating and electrifying his senses, urging him to move in time with its current.

Everything was bright. It was an acclivity of color, a significant departure from the stark black and white he’d grown so used to seeing in sounds. The sounds popped and fizzled like sparks of light against a vibrant sunset— coral and blush, pink the same shade as bubblegum, lush and plummy violet, topped off with prismatic sapphire.

It moved like wind, thrashing against the sea; billowy like linen and ribbon on a cool Sunday afternoon; brilliant like a shooting star, its glimmer cascading against the dark blue.

“‘ _My— heart— stops—_

_When you look at me—_

_Just— one— touch—_

_Now baby I believe—_

_This— is— real—_

_So take a chance and don’t ever look back—_

_Don’t ever look back._ ’”

The only way Ben could describe what he was seeing— and feeling— would’ve been fireworks. Exploding and twinkling, fizzling out in myriads of different colors. Buzzing and bright— some shooting straight through like comets, others shattering into thousands of little sparkles the way rain showers the earth.

_No, it’s more than that,_ he thought as he caught her eyes once more, rendering him frozen in place. It was like seeing a grand cosmic performance, really. An infinite amount of stars and planets and shapes and colors, traveling at light speed; wind flowing like a new breath of life and power, burning stronger than the dying stars glittering down the sky. It lacked nothing— no guttural, draining pull of darkness that most lonely night skies in the city had. Constant cosmoses that enchanted him. And he was lucky enough to catch it all, be among and witness its swift, dynamic energy and brilliance, lighting him up too.

He was lucky enough to be among and witness _her_. _She_ lit him up.

_Miraculous. Dazzling. Captivating._

_Lovely._

_That’s what she is_ , he realized. She was every pretty word he could think of.

And then it hit him.

He didn’t know if it was the literal sharp thud of sudden clapping from Han, interrupting the moment, that caused him to be awakened from his musings... or if it was the magnitude of the next realization that struck him that did.

“That was great,” Han chuckled as his clapping slowed.

He watched Rey wince and wordlessly gape in embarrassment, as if she’d been caught in the middle of... something.

“Thanks Han,” she croaked, quickly getting to her feet and folding her arms over her torso. “It was all Ben, really.”

He felt his dad ruffle his hair playfully, causing him to physically cringe. “He’s got a good ear, I’ll give you that.”

Of course Han had to go and actually pinch the tip of his ear between two fingers as he said, “big ones too!”

That was about all he could take. He stood up and hunched his shoulders and neck, keeping his eyes on the worn-out, dated shag carpet as he walked off. “Alright. Well. Enjoy your lesson,” he grumbled, barely managing to turn his head in a small nod to Rey. He didn’t look at her, though she was looking at him.

He could’ve sworn it was a look akin to awe. But he knew it couldn’t be. Why would she be filled with awe when all he did was fumble through the song, gave a shoddy rendition of the lyrics, and immediately ran off as soon as his dad found them out? Further proving Ben had little to no experience with girls at all, let alone girls like Rey.

How could she look at him like that?

“Thanks, Ben!” He heard her call out after him before he shut his bedroom door and flung himself onto the bed. She sounded... disappointed, almost. Like she was expecting him to stay around or something.

But he was probably projecting again.

At that moment, all he wanted to crawl into himself and fold inwards like a piece of origami or maybe a cardboard box; that would definitely have been better than facing the embarrassment that he felt. Of course his dad just had to be done with his call and rush out to the room right as he was playing some pop song on that old, scuffed-up piano, singing along with some girl.

_Not just ‘some girl,’_ he corrected himself.

And then he showed her the ears.

_Ugh._

And then Ben topped that, storming off like the insufferable, awkward thing he was.

He might have hated playing the piano in front of people, but singing in front of anyone was an absolute nightmare.

He knew he wasn’t the _worst_ singer ever— his voice had already deepened significantly, hardly cracking with a shrill, boyish squeak these days. He knew how to modulate his pitch according to the song, knowing how to transpose the notes to suit his own voice.

But he hated hearing his own voice when he sang.

He wasn’t fond of his voice. Whenever he’d try to sing, all he could focus on was how off he was; each little mistake or strain in his voice greatly overshadowed any pleasantness he felt when singing. If he didn’t even like the sound of his own voice, how could he think anyone else would?

_“You’re ruining the song!”_ Snoke would bark whenever Ben was caught mumbling lyrics as he played.

_Come to think of it... I think Snoke might have actually just hated music._

Even so, Snoke’s words and views still lingered in his mind like an irate echo. It was a cumulation of constantly being told he was doing something wrong, or was ruining a good song by allowing his own style to influence his playing.

But as he played with Rey, those bitter comments grew distant. The wonderful sound of her voice was as deep as the ocean, drowning out anything and everything Ben wished he could forget.

He was then reminded of what had been going through his mind the moment Han walked in the room, putting a stop to the moment he and Rey had been sharing.

It had been something poking at the back of his mind ever since he saw her, really. He avoiding paying it any tribute; what good would come of acknowledgement? Because if he did acknowledge it, even just to himself, he might find himself acting on it one day— something he knew better than to do.

If he acknowledged that he couldn’t stop thinking of the fiery, wild, beautiful girl in the other room, constantly replaying every clip of her he had captured in his minds eye like a film reel... he might not be able to stop.

Which would be bad, because she’s entirely unattainable. Two years may not be a significant age difference down the line, but being a sixteen year old boy with a fourteen year old girlfriend— he got flustered at f Rey and ‘girlfriend’ even being in the same sentence— just didn’t sit right with him.

_Maybe if she was fifteen... maybe, maybe sixteen... just a little older. We’d know each other even better by then and—_

_Stop. Stop. STOP._

He groaned, forcefully throwing his head back against a pillow.

Even if the situational age difference did blow over as time passed, Rey lived in Syracuse, New York. With the exception of the fleeting two-and-a-half months he had for summer break, Ben lived in Bel Air, California. He didn’t know much about relationships, but he could see how that would complicate things.

_Look what it did to mom and dad._

He wasn’t familiar with the kinds of kids Rey probably hung around with, so it wasn’t like they had any mutual friends that could support their relationship. He had overheard Chewie mention to Han that Rey was a bit of a loner, but surely that must be her own choice; he doubted anyone could come across her and not be instantly charmed, if not smitten. He didn’t know if she had anyone she already liked, but there were probably tons of guys who liked her.

Even the idea of it made his skin crawl with jealousy, which only frustrated him even more.

It was things like that that made Ben realize just how much he would need from Rey. He hated how damn insecure he was, but outgrowing it was akin to the same repetitive trance one goes into when picking a scab; he couldn’t help himself. He constantly felt like there was something on his face, making him look foolish, that everyone around him could see that he couldn’t. He’d need consentant reassurance; he could already see himself bombarding her with random text messages at 1:58 A.M.

_‘You still like me, right?’_

_‘Would you tell me if you wanted to break up’_

_‘Hey idk if you saw but I texted you a couple hours ago and havent heard back. No rush or anything, just wanted to make sure you’re ok. If we’re ok. Was worried I had upset you or something haha’_

_‘Miss you...’_

_‘You’re happy with us, right? I’m sorry I just wanted to check’_

_‘Rey?’_

He’d always be checking social media, wishing he could be there whenever she went out with friends or attended school dances. Wondering if maybe one of her friends asked her to dance and wooed her with his moves or something. Made her consider that maybe she didn’t want to waste her teenhood being tied down by some needy, weird piano nerd that lived 2,500 miles away. Some lame guy that did nothing but sulk all day, and whose only ‘unique’ quality was that he claimed having a weird ability to see sounds.

It wasn’t just with Rey, though. He knew he’d be needy and too much for anyone that’d give him the time of day. His parents made him well-aware of that, not just via passive comments or annoyed expressions, but through blunt words to one another.

_‘The kid needs things I can’t give him!’ He heard his father yell, followed by his mother’s exasperated groan._

_‘Well I don’t exactly have time to always give him these things, Han!’_

_‘Yeah, cause you give more time to your damn job than you do to your damn kid!’_

_‘I wonder where I learned that from?’_

_‘Don’t you dare go there.’_

He didn’t want to get angry again, so he stopped that train of thought from going any further.

All he was left with was frustration. Frustration over the way everything was; the way he was.

_Rey shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that. Like me._

A humorless chuckle bursted out.

Here he was, working himself up over something that would probably never happen.

And if that is the case, maybe letting himself pretend it could wouldn’t be _too_ bad.

Because the undeniable truth of it was that Ben did like Rey.

A lot.

* * *

_I’m not your problem anymore._

* * *

Rey glanced over at the clock on the dashboard— she was right on time for once. She wasn’t sure if this was one of the rare times she _should_ be punctual or if her usual tardiness would be more beneficial.

She really shouldn’t have been so wound up about this: this would be just one of the hundreds of times she had gone over new music with Ben. And yet, each time evoked the same anxiety and apprehension one feels whenever going on a first date or on an airplane for the first time.

It was always hit or miss when it came to their music sessions. It was as if they were delving into the depths of the unknown, like these sessions were liabilities. They held potential to take them into a level of honesty and vulnerability that would be impossible to return from. There generally wasn’t any way of predetermining how things would go, though; would there be a thick awkwardness that filled the air like humidity? Would the climate be warm and easy, like it was supposed to each time they were in the other’s company? Or would there be that unnerving, frigid draft of some unnamable tension that swept them apart from the other?

The invisible wall that had been built between them had only gotten higher and higher as time went on. She wasn’t sure if it was Ben or she who kept stacking on more unseen bricks; _probably both_ , she decided.

Kaydel’s words replayed in her mind.

_‘Rey,’ she sighed as she brought the glass of Sauvignon Blanc to her pink lips, taking a full sip. She let the wine linger in her mouth for a long moment as her bright blue eyes stayed trained to the ground. Kaydel was always bubbly and carefree, so seeing the incredulous, pained look on her face made Rey’s chest tighten._

_‘I know, I know,’ Rey insisted, as if that would make her feel less pathetic. ‘You don’t need to tell me. I know. I do.’_

_Kaydel reached for her hand and gave it a tender squeeze as she locked eyes with Rey. ‘I may not care for him much but I know Ben’s a good guy, I know he cares about you. Why he can’t just grow a pair and admit it? I just— I can’t understand that. I don’t know why you and he keep doing this to each other. It doesn’t make sense. You keep breaking each other over and over, all to be rebuilt again for the next clash.’_

_Rey’s shoulders slumped and her throat went dry. It was painful enough to be aware of that reality on her own, but knowing other people could see it too was a heavy blow. She was embarrassed; embarrassed to keep participating in these games, and embarrassed to be called out on it._

_She was sad, too. Not just for herself, but for Ben. She often forgot that the pain that struck her was double-ended, often piercing through him too. Even if their pain came from different angles, it left them a little more damaged each time they were struck. How much more could they take?_

_There was also anger. Anger that she lost herself whenever it came to these things. She lost her resolve and semblance of self-control. Rey prided herself in her pragmatic approach to life: she had an idea of what she wanted and how to get it. She thought she knew what was best for her. But all of that was gone, disappearing from her vision whenever it became clouded by Ben; some things never change, do they?_

_‘I’ll leave it. I’ll be done with it. Because you’re more important than any of it, Ben. You mean everything to me. Please believe that,’ she whimpered, clutching to his shirt._

_She was whole, when she was with him. He accepted her entirely, something she hadn’t found from anyone else._

_He loved her. All of her._

_The good. And the bad._

_The parts of herself she was most ashamed of. The parts she constantly found herself trying to destroy were the parts that he helped her reconcile with. Nothing escaped him— he saw all of her. And yet, he only made her want to be better. She wanted to be the best version of herself, not just for him but for herself and those around her; he significantly inspired that will._

_Intention means nothing when actions convey the opposite, though. She couldn’t say whether it was his flaws that brought out the worst in her, or his strengths that scared her and caused her to push back, demonstrating just how dark she could be._

_He had a way of making her feel like she was both the easiest and the hardest person to love._

_She didn’t realize she was beginning to cry until Kaydel’s hand in hers was replaced by a wad of tissue paper._

_She nodded, giving her a wordless thanks as she blotted out the tears mixed with the ink of smudged makeup._

_Kaydel rubbed her hand up and down between Rey’s shoulders, letting her compose herself in silence._

_Once Rey had regained her composure and looked back to Kaydel, Kaydel was smiling at her. She knew Kaydel was meaning to be consoling and warm, but Rey winced anyway. She could tell Kaydel pitied her— something she couldn’t stand._

_She hoped her silence would be enough of an indicator to Kaydel that she wanted to be alone now, but the girl just sat there. She knew that Kaydel was being a good friend by not leaving her like this, but it really would’ve been fine if she had left at that point. There was no need for Kaydel to linger and watch as her friend grasp at straws and hold onto nothing._

_‘Hey!’ She announced with excitement, caused Rey to flinch._

_‘Yes?’_

_Kaydel’s expression caused Rey’s stomach to twist with anxiety. That look was a bit too mischievous for Rey’s nerves. Kaydel was grinning and clasped her hands together, causing her long nude-colored acrylic nails to click against each other. ‘I think I know someone you could really like. He’s a great guy, Rey. I really think you would hit it off. Just give me a chance here. Just meet him once. Please?’_

_‘Kay...,’ Rey groaned._

_‘Pleeeaaase?’ She begged._

_Rey sighed and threw her head back against the sofa. Her instincts told her to say no, knowing this one wouldn’t end well either. She should be focusing on the album and maybe take some time to sort herself out once and for all. See about taking Mumz and Pawz on a getaway for a few weeks or something, just the three of them. She didn’t have time or emotional energy to get invested in someone new; not only that, but deep down she knew her heart wasn’t truly in it either. It couldn’t belong to anyone else right now. She wouldn’t let it._

_And maybe that was the problem— that she was the one refusing to let go. Let it go. Let_ him _go._

_The vague echo of his voice resurfaced in that moment._

_‘Don’t be like this, Rey. It’s never going to happen._ This _isn’t going to happen. Let go.’_

And that was how she found herself in the position she was currently in. Sitting in her car, waiting outside Ben’s house with a heart weighed down with grief. Confusion. Conflict. Pain. _Love_. All of which were burning at maximum force within her.

Those feelings have only intensified over the past twenty-four hours. She kept reliving every moment from the day before— some more than others.

_‘What would make you happy, Ben?’ She murmured back._

_She wished she could look him in the eye. She just couldn’t, though._

_‘For you to be happy.’_

It was the worst thing he could’ve said. It was that sentence alone that kept her transfixed on him, so raptly devoted to him and his happiness. It was that sentence that had her hooked on and influenced any good judgement she might have started off with that day.

She couldn’t tell him after he said that. So she didn’t.

She couldn’t even be bothered to think about the repercussions of keeping it— Poe— from him until that very moment. All night, her mind was elsewhere: somewhere within the realms of him.

And then there was that kiss. _Bloody hell._ A chaste kiss, just a press of his lips against her temple. A kiss that could’ve come from anyone and meant anything.

But it was a kiss she kept holding onto, replaying it over and over in her head as she laid down in her bed afterwards, battling the vibrancy in her body.

Nobody could kiss her like that. There wasn’t a person on this planet that could make her feel so much with just one clever press of his lips against her flesh.

It was embedded like a tattoo or scar, leaving a residual tenderness as it healed and became part of her body.

She traced her two fingers over the skin, trying to replicate the placement and pressure of his mouth. It had to be soft like a whisper but as distinct as a promise.

What would he be promising though? There was nothing he could promise her in good faith.

Nevertheless, it was a promise of _something_ ; something, she was sure, that would _never_ be enough.

She decided to get out of the car and escape any further thoughts of that. She knocked on the door and rang the bell once, waiting a moment for Ben to answer. It wasn’t unheard of for Ben to be distracted and not hear her arrival, so as usual, she let herself in with her own key.

She went into autopilot after locking the door behind her, taking an immediate right down the winding hallway that lead to his music room.

Some of the most important moments in Rey’s career over the past year began in that room. It was tainted with memories; ghosts of themselves, active in scenes of the past could be found in every inch.

It felt like it Ben had always lived close by, even if his arrival to Los Angeles had been somewhat recent. Maybe his somewhat frequent visits made up for the gaps in between. She was relieved he came to visit because there was no chance that she would be go back to their hometown for a visit. He knew that, she was almost certain.

There was a point in time where Ben had basically moved in with her for a year, actually. It was during the production of her fifth record, when everything around her seemed to be crashing down and burying her alive. He was there, though. He was there to aid her as she dug herself out of it all, never once forsaking or abandoning her like so many others had.

A fond smile curled at her lips. That was her ‘Reputation’ Era.

_‘This ain’t for the best,_

_My reputation’s never been worse, so_

_You must like me for me.’_

She wrote the majority of her sixth album in his music room, too. It was funny to think that he had been around the entirety of its production and yet remained completely oblivious of the fact that the entire album was inspired by him.

‘ _Can I go where you go?_

_Can we always be this close?_

_Forever and ever?_ ’

As she got closer to the door she could hear the comforting sound of his playing. She paused before swinging it open, taking a moment to listen to him. At first she wasn’t sure what she was hearing. While it wasn’t in tune with the typical music Ben played, it sounded familiar.

_I know this song_ , she realized as she leaned closer to the door.

He was beginning to chorus as Rey walked in, careful to be quiet so he wouldn’t notice.

His broad shoulders moved up and down as his head was knelt downwards toward the keys. It evoked a tremendous sense of déjà vu, seeing him sitting there with his back arched inwards, wearing a crisp, casual dress shirt rolled up to his elbows; the main difference was his size. He used to be thin and frail with the floppy, long limbs of a gangly teenage boy. His body was defined and broad now, thick and chiseled in each place; overall very _manly_. His hair was a bit different, too. It was longer and more tousled than it was then, now reaching to the end of his shirt’s collar.

_A lot less gel and product,_ she assessed fondly.

It was the song he was playing that was especially jarring, though. She hadn’t heard or thought of the song in years, yet hearing him play it in that moment brought back the same awestruck, fuzzy, heart-stopping feelings that she felt the first time he played it.

“‘ _You— make — me—_

_Feel like I’m livin’ a—_

_Teen— age— dream_.’”

He stopped suddenly as she belted out the lyrics and turned himself around, visibly caught off guard before melting into a goofy, boyish grin.

Rey could feel her cheeks burn. “You don’t have to stop,” she grinned shyly as she swayed on the heels of her feet.

Ben just stared at her with that deepset smile for a bit, as if he was taking his time to admire her.

He tilted his head and shifted his eyes to the piano and back to her. “You know the rules.”

She dramatically scoffed and put her hands on her hips. “You were doing just fine on your own, mister!”

He folded his arms. “Sorry but you should know this, Kid. I don’t play for you if you don’t sing for me.”

She rolled her eyes, fully enjoying this game of theirs. “Surely my voice must be a bit of a bore after a while.”

The snarky, playful glint in his eye disappeared but his smile remained. “You know that’s not possible. Not even as a joke.”

“You just say that because you have to.”

His smile softened into a barely-there, almost pained ghost of a smile. “No I don’t. I’ve never said or done anything that I didn’t want to or mean when it came to you.”

He winced once the words escaped his lips, as if he only then realized the weight of their meaning. She didn’t know which would be worse: if that had been a lie or the truth.

Choosing to put that thought aside, she was then overcome with the same sudden need she had back then, she slid next to him on the bench, this time not moving away as her body pressed against his.

The way his eyes darkened and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, she was emboldened to put her hand on his knee and give it a soft squeeze.

There was a slight tremble of his head when she leaned in and murmured against his ear, “how about we finish what we started all those years ago?”

She could hear him swallow and nearly gasp before slowly turning his face to hers.

“Rey,” he whispered thickly.

She pulled back a bit, feeling both empowered and pained upon seeing the look on his face. She’d let herself have this, she decided. She’d let herself feel like he also wanted her proposition to mean more than it did. Just for that brief second.

“Play the song, Ben.”

It took him a moment to recover from the clarification, and for a brief second he almost looked disappointed. Almost.

He nodded and returned his focus to the instrument in front of them.

And just like that, she was transported back to Han’s family room on that unusually breezy July night.

He looked so handsome. All the other boys at school never did much with their appearance, so it was different to see a teenage boy comb his hair up so nicely with styling product, as well as wear one of those nice collared shirts paired with jeans; the boys at school mostly wore graphic T shirts and had messy, unremarkable hair styles.

Even if Ben hadn’t gussied himself up though, he was still the best looking boy Rey had seen.

That hadn’t changed over the years.

His aquiline nose was perfectly sculpted, tying in his distinct features together perfectly. Ben was so handsome. Gorgeous, really. He wasn’t good-looking in the conventional way; he had abstract, strong features that typically only looked good if they stood on their own. Most ‘traditionally handsome’ men could only pull off a strong, shapely nose if they had soft eyes, but Ben’s eyes were hard and dark. His mouth was dark as well, with full lips that were naturally wine-stained in color. Some have found that combination to be a bit intimidating, saying they cast him in a sinister light, but Rey knew that wasn’t true. Or even if it was, it didn’t matter. He looked exactly how he was meant to, and he was beautiful.

And then there was the lovely splattering of his moles and freckles. She couldn’t understand why most people didn’t like their moles and strawberry marks and instead viewed them more as a blemishes than beauty marks. She wished she could kiss each one so as to remind him that they were lovable. How could she not love them? They were a part of him and were unique to him; no one else would ever have that same count and combination on their face.

She was especially focused on the one that was nestled between his mouth and nose on the right side of his face. That one was probably her favorite and she wished she could lean in and press her lips to it right then and there. She also loved the way his raven hair fell into place; little tendrils of loose hair curtained along his forehead, highlighting the prominence of his brow bone as he furrowed his brows in concentration.

She had easily decided long ago that this was when he was most beautiful: when he sat at her side and played his music for her. She was enchanted by the look of love on his face as he coerced each note from the instrument, bringing new life to a sound so many others had made. It was tender and fervent, the way he commanded the piano and its melodies. His hold was firm and knowing, like it was second nature to breath energy into an inanimate object and evoke the loveliest sounds from it. He acted with authority, like he knew it as he knew his own body and mind. Each thrust of his fingers against the ivory beneath them was decisive yet delicate, taking care that each play was seamless and languid— creating sparks life and color that vibrated like electricity through the air.

She had never wanted to be something else so very badly as she did then.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly missed her cue to begin signing.

“‘ _You think I’m pretty,_

_Without any makeup on—_

_You think I’m funny,_

_When I tell the punchline wrong—_

_I know you get me,_

_So I let my walls come down—_

_Down_.’”

Like clockwork, their eyes met and she didn’t look away as she continued onto the pre-chorus.

“‘ _Let's go—_

_all the way tonight._

_No regrets—_

_just love._

_We can dance—_

_until we die._

_You and I—_

_we'll be young forever—_ ‘“

He gave her a bright, knowing smile as his lips began to part that caused a hurricane of butterflies to flutter inside her.

“‘ _You— make— me—_

_feel like I'm livin' a—_

_Teen—age— dream._

_The way you turn me on—_

_I— can't— sleep._

_Let's run away—_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back._

_My— heart— stops—_

_When you look at me._

_Just— one— touch—_ ,

_Now, baby, I believe—_

_This— is— real,_

_So take a chance,_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back_.’”

He had quite a lovely voice, she had always thought. She couldn’t help but think of how good their voices sounded together; his gruff low-end tenor and her smoky mezzo-soprano fused together perfectly. Together they were powerful and strong, hitting each note in tune with the other. It was moments like that that reminded Rey just how right it felt to be with him, like they were cut from the same piece and painted in the same colors. It was always so _right_ when she was with him and he was with her; moments in time where they solely existed for the other. Like a perfect set, one half complimenting and completing the other.

Their voices were both substantially stronger as they sang the same song eight years later. Both had grown into their voices, not to mention the utilization of proper vocal training. It was an odd thought: their voices today were so much sturdier and confident, lacking the hesitancy and uncertainty that their younger voices possessed— they sang without insecurity now. And yet, it was _now_ that the insecurity and fear of failure— _rejection_ — was the strongest it had ever been.

She must have missed the transfer over to the second verse, attention more loyal to the player versus the piece, because much to her delighted surprise, he took over.

“‘ _We drove to Cali,_

_And got drunk on the beach—_

_Got a motel and,_

_Built a fort out of sheets—_

_I finally found you,_

_My missing puzzle piece—_

_I'm complete._ ’”

Why did he have to look at her like that when he spoke so temptingly? Even if those weren’t his words and he was just reciting cliche pop lyrics, it was the way he looked at her— directly in the eye with an unwavering dedication— that made it feel real. It was almost real; it was only as real as a vivid fever dream that left her craving the body and heartache she was left with in the end. Because in the moment it always seemed worth it: to have it, even for a little bit.

She took in the sight of the brilliant man next to her as she admitted to a truth she often tried to hide from.

‘ _And you know damn well, for you I would ruin myself,_

_... a million little times_.’

She felt his knee press against hers as her part was coming up, forcing her to put aside that only half-done thought for now.

“‘ _Let's go—_

_all the way tonight._

_No regrets—_

_just love._

_We can dance—_

_until we die._

_You and I—_

_we'll be young forever._

_You— make— me—_

_feel like I'm livin' a—_

_Teen—age— dream._

_The way you turn me on—_

_I— can't— sleep._

_Let's run away—_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back._

_My— heart— stops—_

_When you look at me,’”_

In sync with the lyric, she and Ben looked to the other at the same moment, eyes like magnets.

“‘ _Just— one— touch—,_

_Now, baby, I believe—_

_This— is— real,_

_So take a chance,_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back._

_I'mma get your heart racing,_

_In my skin-tight jeans—_

_Be your teenage dream tonight._

_Let you put your hands on me,_

_In my skin-tight jeans—_

_Be your teenage dream tonight._

_You— make— me—_

_feel like I'm livin' a—_

_Teen—age— dream._

_The way you turn me on—_

_I— can't— sleep._

_Let's run away—_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back._

_My— heart— stops—_

_When you look at me._

_Just— one— touch—,_

_Now, baby, I believe—_

_This— is— real,_

_So take a chance,_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back._

_My— heart— stops—_

_When you look at me._

_Just— one— touch—,_

_Now, baby, I believe—_

_This— is— real—,_

_So take a chance,_

_And don't ever look back,_

_Don't ever look back._

_I'mma get your heart racing,_

_In my skin-tight jeans—_

_Be your teenage dream tonight._

_Let you put your hands on me,_

_In my skin-tight jeans—_

_Be your teenage dream tonight._ ’”

His focus didn’t leave her as he hit the final notes, finally finishing his performance of it for her after all these years. His pupils were blown and his eyes glimmered with an indiscernible spark of intensity, pouring into her like a flood.

And she felt like she was drowning; she didn’t know how to react. She wanted to cry; she wanted to run; she wanted to destroy the bloody instrument with her bare hands; she never wanted to leave his side.

All of those emotion raced inside her like a grand triathlon, too close to call which would be named champion.

‘Mind over matter’ was a concept clearly lost on her, she realized as she was already wrapping both arms around the expanse of his shoulders and pulling him close.

He didn’t question it, reciprocating without any hesitation. He pulled her as she pulled him, causing their bodies to wrap unevenly around the other. If he pulled her any closer she’d be on his lap and if she pulled him, he’d be on top of her against the too-small piano bench.

It had been a long time since they’d done this: sit in place and say nothing as they held onto each other, as if their bodies were better suited to speak on their behalf. And maybe that was so, because when he held her like that, every little thing that had ever hurt or scared or ruined her got further and further from her mind and heart. He was everything she loved: he was the moonlight that kept accompanied her on dark nights; the cool breeze along The Lake that used to run through her hair and make her feel like she could fly; he was her homeland, her crown.

It was in the way his body took hers in, cradling her like she was something really special. The smell of him— cardamom, lavender, cedarwood, coumarin, and something else she could never quite describe— was more comforting than air itself. And just knowing it was him: it was Ben. Her beloved, most cherished darling companion, who evoked a fondness from her no one else could.

His fingers were running idly through her hair as he murmured against the skin of her neck, “Rey.”

Her eyes were closed and she didn’t bother opening them by turning to face him. “Yes?”

Her skin tickled when he exhaled against it with his nose. “Why did you like that song?”

“Hmm.” She huffed out, hoping he would let it go.

Of course, he didn’t, though. “‘Teenage Dream.’ Why did you choose that song as the first one you learned to play?”

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and released a small sigh. “I liked the song, I suppose.”

She knew that wasn’t the proper answer to his question and so did he.

“Why? You had told me then it was your favorite song. You didn’t tell me why then either.”

Now was as good a time as any to pull away, she decided as she gently withdrew from him, immediately feeling a draft as they lost contact.

She didn’t look at him as he waited for her response, choosing to pick at the manicure she had just gotten that morning. It had a tiny chip in it, anyway.

Her shoulders raised with a slight shrug. “I don’t know. I just...,” she debated whether or not to allow the rest of that sentence to leave her mouth; it would probably have been better to end it there, but when she saw the pleading, intent expression on his face, he couldn’t be denied.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, rocking a bit as she spoke. “I just liked it. I liked the summery sound it had, and I liked the depiction of ‘young love’ or what have you. I listened to it all the time back then,” she paused, finding the confidence she needed in his eyes before she continued.

“Made me think of some boy I was mad about at the time. Or thought I was, anyway. Just... just a silly, childish crush, I suppose.”

They both winced at that.

“Just typical, silly teenage dreams,” she said in a small, almost defeated voice as she rose up from the bench.

Before she could take another step, her wrist was in his grip, causing her to freeze.

He had that look in his eyes— the look in his eyes from The Lakes, causing her heart to both stop completely and beat myriads at once. As much as it scared her, almost enough for her to recoil like a wounded animal, she just couldn’t resist the possibility and unknown it held. He didn’t know it, but it was his best way of trapping her.

“I don’t think it was silly. At all.”

He then stood up with a sense of resolve she hadn’t seen in him in a long time. Ben was decisive and steady, yes, but this was something else entirely.

“I just— I need to tell you something.” He released her wrist and brought his hand to her face, cradling her chin while his thumb swayed along the spaces her dimples appeared when she’d smile. “Please, baby.”

The air in the room disappeared and was replaced by a thick, undefined tension. The potent silence, the undisturbed gaze, and every single one of the millions of nuances that had amounted between them were all coming to the surface, creating the perfect climate for something dangerous to happen.

It was as terrifying as it was thrilling, proving to be irresistible. It was like taking a leap from one far end to the other: the worry of failure weighed heavily, but the excitement of success was heavier.

In that moment, she knew he could ask anything of her and she would say yes. She didn’t care what or _who_ might have been waiting on her or him, what they had to face once they went off into a world different than their own— none of that mattered.

Not that it ever had,

‘ _Where_ _ver_ _you stray, I’ll follow’_ was a promise that served as a double-edged sword that pierced them both, binding them together. She knew it— he knew it.

She nodded, unable to use her words.

He smiled softly, closed mouth as he took another second to look into her eyes. She could see the sweet honey dripping in his, brought out by the midday sunlight that crept through the room.

“It’s… the song, the one I was working on for you. It… it probably says things better than I could.”

He glanced to his side at the piano and gestured to it. She was a little bit more than disappointed that he didn’t just say whatever he had to say right then and there; she was wound up so tightly, she didn’t want to waste another second of not knowing. Of not hearing it from him. She needed him to say it… and mean it this time.

But she couldn’t hold it against him. This was Ben, after all. Her sweet, wonderful Ben, who loved to play music for her. Of course she would listen to what he had made for her; even if it wasn’t with preamble as it was now, she jumped at every opportunity she had to hear him. He was stunning. Gifted. His very existence was a manifestation of how his music sounded: _breathtaking_. Anytime she saw him sitting at his piano, she knew he was about to perform a miracle— all for her.

She knew he felt more comfortable when she sat across from him whenever he played her something new, so she settled in as he did on his end.

She could tell he was nervous; he ran his fingers through his hair, pursed and quirked his lips, and did that damn thing he did with his feet. It was pretty funny, actually. He always locked at the knees and his feet would either part opposite of each other or invert inwards. He was a large man and his feet were in accordance with his size, but whenever he did that they always looked oddly small and pointed. It was such a gimpy, boyish mannerism; he did it when they were teenagers, and he did it now as they were adults. He probably had been doing it his entire life. She just smiled though, having come to the conclusion that Ben Solo was a big, sexy, masculine man… with the mannerisms of a lanky, awkward, skinny teenage boy.

And her love for him then had carried on, deepening into the love she had for him now.

He cleared his throat and crackled his finger joints. “So,” he began with an exhale, “obviously if you end up deciding you wanna work with the melody or anything, you can call it whatever you want to. For now I’ve been calling ‘ _Exile_ ,” but whatever you want is fine. I’m sure you’d come up with brilliant lyrics for it, too. But, uh…,” he paused, looking down at his hands as they hovered over the keyboard. A curt, nervous chuckle came out and he took one last inhale before continuing.

“This… these, uh… I came up with a couple things you could say with the song, if you want. Lyrics, I mean. Not just… things you say, obviously. They’re really probably not any good, and my feelings won’t be hurt if you decided to scrap them or anything like that. But the melody at least…,” he gave an incredulous shake of the head and smiled at her. “It… it sounds like you. It looks like you. It’s beautiful. And it means a lot to me.”

She willed herself not to cry. She would NOT cry. And if she spoke, she would cry, so she just nodded with abandon and clasped her hands so tightly, it hurt.

He laughed and fixed his hair one more time. “Okay. Cool. Awesome. You ready?”

“Ready.”

And as soon as she said it, her ears were filled with melody.

Ugly melody.

Annoying melody.

_AMILYN HOLDO._

Because of BLOODY course Amilyn just had to call her right then and there. Of course she did. It was perfect. Absolutely brilliant.

She didn’t realize she had actually violently groaned out loud, thrashed her phone down, and kicked her feet up and down until she heard Ben burst out in laughter, quite amused by her miniature tantrum.

“God, you’re such a brat,” he hiccuped, wiping his eye and pointing. “What’s with the feet thing?!”

“Not funny,” she grumbled, fully annoyed still as she knelt down to get her phone. “She’s such a pain in the neck as is, and you were literally about to play me the song and I just—,” her rant faded out as she read the notifications on her screen.

**Amilyn Holdo**

**iMessage**

**I need you to call ASAP very important. ‘Send’**

**Missed Call (2)**

**Amilyn Holdo**

**Missed FaceTime (1)**

**Amilyn Holdo**

**Amilyn Holdo**

**iMessage**

**Please call. Urgent.**

Her stomach instantly soured; a missed call from Amilyn was almost never a reason to celebrate. When she had good news, she FaceTimed. But a phone call? Twice? That didn’t sit well with Rey at all.

Ben picked up on her discomfort and got to his feet and reached for her hand. His eyes were soft and his lips set in a content grin. “Hey, don’t worry. Why don’t you call her back so you won’t have to stress about it and when you’re done we can go over the song? Would that be good for you?”

As annoyed and anxious as she was, his understandment and assurance caused her to melt a bit. So she nodded and agreed, excusing herself to the restroom to make the call.

“Sounds good, I’ll be here when you’re done,” he told her as she made her way out while he settled onto the sofa and got on his phone.

She didn’t even bother to collect herself and get her thoughts in order before calling Amilyn back. She wanted to get this over with, whatever it was.

“Rey, hun,” Amilyn answered cooly, like some sort of pristine superwoman/girl-boss cyborg.

“What’s the matter, Amilyn?” She exhaled harshly.

“I’m sorry, I tried to reach you over text first. I’ve been waiting over an hour, love,” she offered. Rey hadn’t realized how much she lost track of time since she got to Ben’s house, which caused her to feel a little bad for getting on Amilyn’s case.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered. “It’s important, I’m guessing?”

She must have sounded particularly crossed because Amilyn noticed it for once, and huffed. “Were you in the middle of something? I figure it can’t have been too big of an event, seeing as I would know about it if it were.”

Amilyn was back to trying her once again, but Rey decided to let it go and get on with this. “Erm… yeah, I’m sorry, I was caught up but nevermind that. What’s going on, Am?”

Amilyn clicked her tongue. “Girl! You need to check your emails and socials at least once in the morning! We’ve talked about this! You don’t have to spend hours on there or anything, but for the love of God, at least check in every now and then to see what’s going on with you.”

She was about to defend herself and say she had checked, but she realized she actually hadn’t. She had been so preoccupied all morning, anxious about what would go down between her and Ben. She knew she was going to have to tell him about Poe and everything since some article about the two of them would be coming out sometime…

_Today_.

Whether it was real glass smashing against a hard surface or just the sound of her heart shattering, she didn’t know.

She had slumped down against the shut door and let her phone fall against the soft gray rug across from her.

Suddenly she was numb, rendered lame. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.

How could she have forgotten about this absolute nightmare of a situation? She felt so foolish. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she had been so careless.

“Hello? Hello? Rey? Did you hear me? You two look amazing in the candids! So at least we have that going for us! Remind me to send a fruit basket to Deux Moi! So glad our anon used the photos we sent them.”

Set in autopilot as her thoughts were not making contact with the rest of her senses, she reached for her phone and swallowed. “Amilyn, I have to call you back.”

Before Amilyn could argue, Rey hung up.

“Okay. Okay, I can do this,” she told herself over and over as she stood up and checked her reflection. She noticably went from glowing to wrecked within the time it took to complete that phone call. Her eyes were panicked, somehow her makeup had smudged, her hair was wild, her jowls protruding… this was not good.

_No, no, this is fine,_ she tried to convince herself as she splashed her face with water. _I’ll just… oh god. Okay, I’ll just run out there and… and tell Ben it’s a misunderstanding. That Amilyn jumped the gun and Poe means nothing to me. It’s the truth. Who knows? I’m sure he hasn’t even seen anything yet. It barely just got to Buzzfeed and they take a while to publish, anyway. I’ll tell him this and run home, call Poe later on and deal with the consequences. It’s fine. I’m fine. This is very normal. Very regular, normal things all adults do from time to time. It’s fine._

She took a deep breath before stepping out and taking the slow, painful walk from the restroom to the music room. She didn’t hear anything, no music or obvious movement coming from that vicinity, so that was probably a good thing. Surely Ben hadn’t seen anything yet. She had only been gone five minutes, tops, and Ben wasn’t a huge social media user anyway.

She would just explain everything to him right then and there, so he could hear it from her first rather than find out through the press. It would be perfectly fine.

As she peeked into the room before stepping in, she Ben was sitting as he had been when she left. Nothing too different. His face was a bit… hard, but that was how it always was. He had a natural scowl.

His head was leaned back against the headrest and one of his hands went over it, wiping it from top to bottom. His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he had swallowed harshly, but she could've just seen it wrong.

“Hey,” she squeaked out as she stepped into the room.

He immediately sat up right but didn’t make any immediate effort to change his expression. He gave her a curt nod and mumbled, “hey.”

Rey didn’t know what to do. She could already feel the presence of a new wall being built and was desperate to end its development before it was too late.

She forced herself to plop down next to him, which made him wince slightly. She confirmed her suspicion that the sudden proximity put him off by nudging his foot with her own, causing him to shift away slightly.

“So how about the song? Can I still hear it?”

He wasn’t looking at her for once. This time he was the one who found his fingernails more appealing than the intense eye contact they often shared.

“Yeah, of course. Like I said, it’s your song.”

Any hope that comment had given her was crushed when he got up and came right back, simply handing over a small stack of transcribed sheet music.

It had every movement and note laid out perfectly, but she instantly noticed that there were no lyrics to correspond to the music.

“What about the lyrics you wrote?” She asked, fearing what she’d be met with if he were to look her in the eye.

She was right to be afraid. He didn’t look angry; he looked empty, and that was decidedly worse. It was like all of the passion and energy he had moments ago had completely vanished or never happened in the first place.

“Um… it’s okay, I uh… I thought about them and they’re not that great, honestly. I think you’ll come up with something better.”

He looked broken. His voice was flat yet shrill, as if he was merely acting as a mouthpiece for someone else. His shoulders drooped, his gaze was far-off and glassy, jaw tight. He never refused to look her in the eye before.

She’d rather he be angry than sad like that. If he was angry, she could get angry too. But this was different.

“You’re upset with me,” she stated simply as she stood up too.

He shook his head. “I’m not upset with you.”

She frowned, unsure how to navigate around his reaction. She was sure, if anything, he would be smarmy and sarcastic with her, either directly calling her out for not telling him or making some snide comment about how stupid Poe and she were together. But now, it was indescribable; the way he conducted himself was akin to the way a person plagued by pure exhaustion would.

“You heard about Poe and me,” she said carefully.

He chuckled dryly. “Hasn’t everyone? Your fans tag me in every post about you.”

“It’s… it’s not—“

He sighed. “Not what, Rey? Not true? Not what it looks like? I’m pretty sure it is. You told me yourself, that you liked him. He likes you. What else is there to explain? You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

_Defeat_. That’s what it was.

“Ben, I…,” she took a step closer to him, but he took a solid, defined step back.

“I think you should go,” he said simply, voice low and rasped.

“Ben, I wanted to tell you, and I just— I owe you the truth, and—,” she tried to protest but he was having none of it. He walked away from her and leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. His posture was defensive but he never looked as frail as he did then.

“You don’t owe me anything, Rey. That’s not what this is. You’ve been perfectly clear with me. I meant it when I said your happiness is my happiness.”

_Then why are neither of us happy?_

“This whole thing with us… it’s stupid. We keep explaining ourselves over and over, but we don’t need to. I get it, and so do you.”

“Ben, please,” her voice cracked. “I wanted to tell you about Poe, I just…,” she tried but didn’t know how to finish. She could feel him closing himself off from her, surrounding himself with walls she could never climb over.

“Rey,” his voice was still low but less measured and more forceful than before.

She wanted to plead, but what could she say?

_Please hear me out. Please let me try this. Please don’t say no. Please don’t let this pass us by again. Please love me._

“Just go.”

And she did.

_Exile_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorrrrryyyy it took so long but this one was rough for me! A big chunky one and its an important one so i hope you guys like it :( please be nice to Ben and Rey they’re both so dumb ugh pray for them
> 
> Outstanding art by Lilibeth Sonar! Instagram: @lilibethsonar  
> Twitter: @LilibethSonar 
> 
> Am posting this super late cause I’ve been up DAYS trying to get this one out and its here finally and now I can rest!! I wanted it to be beta read but i just felt desperate to get it out asap, so i will probably come back to edit any mistakes.
> 
> Also thank you to the amazing Maddy @darthswift13 for helping me navigate some of the music theory aspects of this chapter!!
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, share this fic if you like it, kudos, say hi to me on twitter !!!
> 
> Twitter.come/ang3lview
> 
> Thank you for all the love you give <3


	8. no other sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On one side of town, Rey and Finn go over the mysterious song Ben had gifted Rey. On the other, Ben is met with a subtle blast from the past that causes him to face the facts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry this update took so long! I had a lot of ideas for it but wasn’t sure where I wanted to leave it off, so I worked on it for a good while. I hope you enjoy this! Even though this is mostly angst.... i promise it’s gonna be a HEA though!!! I couldn’t imagine anything else for reylo~
> 
> *MAJOR CW*:
> 
> Part one: Feelings/recollection of abandonment, mention of drinking/alcohol
> 
> Part two: Recollection of abandonment, alcohol, addiction, alcoholic parent (past), therapy, intervention, rehab, parent dependent on child, minor act of violence done out of anger (Ben throws something when he is upset)

Rey was almost positive she was getting the whole thing wrong.

It felt as though she was doing something that wasn’t meant for her, leaving her with residual feelings of inadequacy and disingenuousness.

_Ben should be here, doing this with me._

The taxation of the motions she was going through as she played weighed on her, making each finger feel too heavy and numb to maintain the accelerando the song required. Or, she supposed it was a tempo-error that caused the music to sound flat and broken-up in her ears; she had nothing to compare her playing to, since there had been no demonstration by its composer.

Overall, Rey was a proficient on the piano; guitar was first in both skill and passion, but she was more than capable of making her way through a piano ballad without letup. But playing piano felt more like a forced, mechanic ritual rather than an instinctive act of passion and ease.

She couldn’t help but feel whatever she played well on piano, Ben would play phenomenally. Even if she came up with a melody on her own and demonstrated its base on the piano, as soon as Ben came in and played it himself, it always sounded so much better. Even if he didn’t spruce it up with his own improvements, and played it exactly as Rey had, the mere touch of him turned honey into gold.

So to be playing a song he said he wrote just for her— not just some melody he’d been toying with, not something he came up with upon her suggestion or prompting, but something he wrote for her, with her in mind— felt wrong. It was a song he wrote for her and was meant for him to perform for her, so why did she find herself listening it to the first time by her own hands?

Because he wasn’t speaking to her and she wasn’t speaking to him. She didn’t know at that point whose choice it was or who started it, but it seemed to be something neither intended to break on.

It was going on a week now. They’d gone through longer stints of mutual silence, but this particular one was laced with something more venomous than the others.

Most of the past bouts were heavy in misunderstanding and awkwardness, but this time there was no doubt that they were ignoring each other, and weren’t as desperate to find a way out of the no-talking competition they’d dumbly entered. There was true anger and bad-blood keeping them apart this time.

It wasn’t like they had never gotten into it before, they definitely had. But this was different because all those other times were now solid bricks, settled deeper in the foundation that kept them in. Those small bricks combined were now taking form of one massive block. This fight was a massive slab that was equal to all those smaller ones put together, all of it coming together in the facilitation of that _damn_ wall that was becoming harder and harder to tear down.

And the longer they kept away now, the more Rey questioned whether or not they would find the strength to deconstruct it as they always had before.

_You can only be strong for so long before you tire out. And that wall won’t stop growing._

As she continued on, drawing out the resonant timbre and melancholic tempo, her mind filled with questions.

_How long had he been working on this?_

_Did he write the music or the lyrics first?_

_Is this a love song?_

_Or is it a ‘friend’ song? The sort of song someone would write for their mother or sister?_

Once the final note finished, she scooted the bench back and clasped her hands in her lap, choosing to stare down rather than meet Finn’s eyes. She was sure he was smiling since he immediately commenced enthusiastic clapping once she was done, but his display of impression was lost on her.

He had walked over from his seat at the control room to loom over Rey, shaking his head incredulously. “Striking,” he said as his clapping faded. “Absolutely stunning.”

Rey huffed before looking up to him, seeing his dazzling, encouraging grin. “Yeah, he’s brilliant.”

Finn pouted his lips and shrugged. “You’re brilliant too, if not more so. You played it exquisitely.”

She sighed and said nothing more, choosing to hold back the same progression of reasoning regarding Ben’s excellence she had gone through while playing the song.

It wasn’t that Finn would judge or chastise her for it. He was always so sweet and supportive whenever Rey found herself confiding in him, so it didn’t make sense why she had such an adverse towards filling him in.

Maybe, to an extent, she felt like she would be disappointing him somehow. By admitting weakness or defeat, she would be showing him his belief in her strength had been misplaced all along. And he would pity her, something Rey couldn’t handle. She avoiding facing the truth when on her own, so why would she force Finn to be there and face it with or for her? He shouldn’t have to carry her burdens on top of his own. So she decided she didn’t want to tell him.

While she had known Ben longer than she’d known Finn, Finn was one of the few people in who’d been there for her from the beginning.

When she was just staring, he was semi new in the industry as well, but he was well on his way to notoriety.

Most producers want to get their hooks in a sure-fire client, someone who could be used as a stepping stone to skyrocket them, the same way new artists try to work with the most well-known producers in the game. But Finn genuinely liked Rey and was amazed by her sound. He saw her potential when others didn’t, and knew he wanted to be on her team as soon as they met.

He turned away quite a few other offers to work with Rey. He was questioned about it, asked why he’d risk what he’d thus far built himself into for the sake of helping ‘some hick horse girl,’ since folk and country were so out of trend when Rey was starting. He never gave those critics any tribute, just telling them to wait and see who’s out of trend in a few years down the line.

And, thankfully, he was right. He believed in her more than she believed in herself from the very beginning. With Rey’s smooth twist on folk and country rock, she took the genre to a new height. The root of her origin were the medley of rockabilly, bluegrass, and country songs Han and Chewie insisted she become fluent in, and she never took it for granted; she took that influence, combined it with the fun, flowery pop music she also had grown so fond of, and made the two meet in the middle. And Finn helped her do it. Countless hours in the studio resulted in the groundbreaking sound Rey became famous for.

Not only was it his loyalty and faith in her talent that bounded Rey to Finn, but it was the same loyalty and faith he put in her as a person that facilitated that bond.

He was one of the only people she could turn to when times got tough. Not just in her career, but in her personal life. Finn knew all about Ben and had ultimately been her alternative shoulder to cry on when Ben was the cause of those tears. And he always had managed to comfort her.

Finn understood her like a brother understands his sister, having grown up under the same roof. Finn had also been in the system growing up, so the profound loneliness and self-doubt Rey found herself running from was a monster that chased Finn throughout his life too. He knew what it was like to still feel unwanted in a room full of people who loved you. He could empathize with her when she felt like she was always on eggshells in life, each step potentially being the one that breaks and put her at risk of abandonment yet again. Like she always had to be working up toward something and be the best of the best— she needed to be good. Good for everyone, and she needed to know people were proud of her and pleased with her accomplishments, or else they might give up and stop loving her.

Because that’s how it felt when she was in and out of new homes before she’d turned ten. Every little move was ultimately a move toward her inevitable desertion, but she couldn’t help but dwell on which one was the final breaking point for whoever she was living with at the time.

Even though that turbulent state of belonging was settled once and for all once Chewie and Maz found her, it was something she still was left to shake off; and it never fully leaves, Rey realized eventually.

In the end, she always ended up telling Finn everything. But if she could put it off or avoid telling him all together, she would.

But Finn knew better.

He gently released her hair from the tight, messy bun it had been in, allowing her waves to cascade down along her shoulders. He knew she’d get a headache if she kept it up too long.

“Peanut,” he began, his tone coming out softly as would a knowing parent. “What’s going on?”

_Well, so much for not telling Finn._

She groaned and rolled her head back with her hands covering her eyes. Finn must have known this would be a long talking session because he instantly went to grab his rolling chair and placed it opposite to her before sitting. He clasped his hands together and leaned his arms on his knees, patiently waiting for Rey to begin speaking.

“Just... just another Ben thing,” she sighed out without looking. She knew he’d have that tight smile of sympathy on his face and she wasn’t ready to see it.

He responded just as she expected he would. “Ah. I see.”

“Yeah, it’s just...,” she paused and swallowed. “Just the usual.”

He huffed. She didn’t see it but she heard him moving, causing her to think he must have been leaning back in his seat now too. “The usual, huh? Hmm. Okay. The usual. And that is...,” he trailed off.

“Finn.”

He clicked his tongue. “To me at least, and maybe a few others— or, you know, everyone—, that means one of you is pissed at the other for a reason well within your control and yet is refusing to proper communicate it to the other? Am I right? I’m almost sure I am.”

She could hear the friendly, warm smile in his words. Finn had a way of saying things that always made Rey chuckle. It wasn’t that he was making fun of her or anything, but his tone was light, if not teasing, and his words clever and witty, which always put her at ease no matter the situation.

“Something like that,” she grumbled out, finally taking her hands from her eyes and her posture loosening.

“Is it because of that Dameron lad?” He asked, though he more than likely knew the answer.

Rey shrugged and rested her head in her hands. “I suppose it is.”

He reached over and patted her knee. “Did he say something?”

She rubbed her lips together and frowned. “Sort of? Or, well, no. Not really. I don’t know. It was all very weird.”

His expression was teasing and clever. “I’m good with weird.”

So Rey went into it, recapping all the events of the previous week. She recollected the changing feeling in the air when he told her he would perform the song, and that had Amilyn not called or just called three minutes later, she wouldn’t be on the outside of Ben’s mind and heart, dying to know what is to be found inside. She told him how it felt like some sort of film she’d seen before, where she walked in on him just as he found out. And how he went cold, icing her out and sending her away. It was so precisely dramatic, the way it all had played out.

She didn’t believe things really worked themselves out in such exact, awful timing in real life, and timing was just a plot device used to entertain audiences. But she was wrong: timing was everything. And really, when she thought deeper on it, it always had been with Ben and her.

“It was like a film I’d seen before, but didn’t like the ending of.”

Finn chuckled but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Sounds like this was the real deal.”

She crunched her nose and furrowed her brows. “How do you figure?”

He sighed and swayed his head from side to side before looking her in the eye; his eyes were serious, as if he were about to tell her some kind of grim news. Rey didn’t like that look one bit.

“Well, I mean it’d been a long time since you’ve been in a serious relationship like this. I mean, you’ve dated here and there but the way it’s appeared thus far could easily convince one that Dameron and you are likely to be in it for the long hull. Ben probably knows Dameron is the biggest threat he’s been up against in a long time.”

“Come on, Finn,” Rey groaned. “At this point Ben has to know that—“

She stopped herself at that.

But Finn wouldn’t let her.

His brows raised and eyes widened slightly. “Know... what? What does Ben have to know, Rey?”

As wonderful as Finn was, he could also be a real sore when it came to this. He was very keen on the idea of making Rey face the facts and acknowledge feelings she wasn’t ready to, and Rey detested that. Even when it was probably what was best for her. Finn was almost desperate for her to acknowledge the unspoken truth that hung in the air, and that was one thing Rey was resolute on not touching.

“... know that— that it’s fine. We both date. He’s been on and off with Bazine for how many years? That seems serious to me, so he should know he has no reason to be crossed with me,” she spat. She avoided talking about Bazine, especially when it came to Ben, at all costs. Whenever she did, her blood felt hot like lava and air felt like smoke with each inhale; the air that she breathed in would whoosh down hard and cause her stomach to sink and her chest to tighten. She was just another facet of the truth Rey was desperate to refuse or acknowledged. She’d rather die in silence than live in the acknowledgement she was grotesquely jealous.

It was just so easy to be jealous of someone who had something that never really belonged to you in the first place.

“Don’t you two ever get tired of telling each other that? Of telling yourselves that?”

_Finn sure knows how to hit it where it hurts_ , she couldn’t help but think.

“Excuse me?” She said in a low, dangerous voice as she crossed her arms defensively.

Finn wasn’t one to refrain out of intimidation. He crossed his arms back and smirked. “You heard me, Peanut.”

_Don’t give in._

“Yeah, I heard you but I don’t quite grasp why you’d ask such a thing.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Rey. Come on, now. You know we both know. I’m not daft; I see things, I notice things... and I hear things. Just like I heard that nasty little draft of jealousy in your tone when you mentioned Ben and Bazine.”

Even hearing their names together from Finn was enough to make her flinch slightly and cause her eyes to narrow. It was an odd mental image, but she realized she probably was the human equivalent to how cats look when angry: eyes narrowed, jowls turned down, ears back, tail thrashing with hostility. All she needed to do now was bare her teeth and hiss at him.

“And now,” he added with a pointed finger, “I can see it on your face.”

All Rey could do was huff defiantly, turn her body away from him and pout in peace. “That doesn’t mean I’m jealous. It just means I think he could do better than Bazine, that’s all. I think anyone could do better than Bazine. I’d feel the same way if you were with her.”

Finn cracked up, hugging himself with both arms. “Yeah, cause you KNOW Bazine is the type of person I’d be into.”

She couldn’t help but laugh back. “That was just an example.”

“But really, Rey. I don’t know why you can’t just admit you want him. It won’t hurt you if you admit it. You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge. An esteemed doctor once said that, you know.”

“Dr. Phil doesn’t count.”

He just shrugged, still enjoying his own humor. “Doesn’t change the merit of the advice though.”

He— _or, well, Dr. Phil,_ Rey supposed— had a point, as much as Rey didn’t want to admit it. Her true feelings for Ben were always the elephant in the room; Finn definitely knew they were there, as did all her friends, but Rey was never willing to explicitly confirm or confront them. The closest to knowing the full depth of her devotion was Kaydel, who only knew because Rey was so drunk one time, she let the secret spill from her mouth... which was soon followed by everything she had ate and drank that night.

So she was left with no choice other than to let Kaydel know. Which ended up being somewhat of a good thing, because had Kaydel not known the delicacy of the situation, she would’ve continued to create awkward situations in order to push Rey and Ben together; she thought they were adorable together, as many others seemed to think as well, so she was aggressive in her effort to hook them up. Sometimes Rey secretly hoped her wicked plans worked and she and Ben would end up together, but they never did. So eventually it became nothing but painful.

Plus, had Kaydel not known about the struggle and pain those feelings caused Rey, she wouldn’t have set her up with Poe. And Poe really was a nice man. If it weren’t for Ben, she would probably like him as much as people think she does.

But other than that, Rey didn’t even think of getting into it with anyone when it came to how she really felt about Ben. But maybe by admitting it— willingly, sober— to Finn, someone she thoroughly trusted, it could be the start of change.

“It’s just hard,” was all she could come up with as a start. She was looking down but could see Finn nodding and rolling his lips.

“I know, Peanut.”

But he didn’t. How could he? She knew Finn was trying to be empathetic, but still couldn’t stand the pity in his voice.

“I don’t think you do,” she responded in a small voice. She hated how weak and strained she sounded. “It’s just— _I’m_ just so stupid.”

“Rey, no. You’re not stupid. Don’t say that,” he insisted as he leaned over and pulled her into a hug. While it was comforting, Rey was set on seeing this admission through before she lost the courage, so she pulled away.

“I know. I _feel_ stupid though.”

“I get that. But don’t think that, because it’s not true.”

“I feel like— no, I _know_ that I’m wasting my time.”

“Loving someone is never a waste of time.”

“It is when they will _never_ love you back.”

He was quiet for a moment. He studied her with his fingers pressed to his lips and eyes full of concern. He took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders before reaching out and running his palm against the back of her head, soothing her like the damaged child she was inside.

“Don’t talk like that, Rey. I know you. You defend love better than anyone I know. It’s what makes you who you are—someone very lovable.”

“You know it’s the truth, Finn. It never even began, but it’s over— so what am I defending now?”

“I just don’t seem to be able to give him up yet,” she added under her breath.

“And it seems like he can’t give you up either. _That’s_ the problem. He _does_ love you back.”

Something about his insistance struck a nerve in Rey, causing her to become hotly defensive and raise her voice louder than necessary. “If he did, why would he keep doing this to me? Why would I keep doing this to him? People who love each other _don’t_ keep hurting each other like this.”

Despite how desperate and frantic she must have sounded, Finn remained calm and his presence was still as comforting as a sprig of fresh lavender.

“Do you mean to hurt him?”

Her immediate reaction was to say ‘no.’ Because she didn’t think she had ever meant to; at least, she didn’t _want_ to think she ever meant to. She cared about him, and she wanted to be instrumental in his happiness, not sadness. But there was a moment of hesitation; could she say she truly never means to hurt him when that dark part of herself is self-aware enough to know that sometimes she does?

But then again, did she _truly_ hurt him? Or did she just want to _believe_ she mattered enough to him to be able to?

“No,” she finally said, still unsure how true it was.

His probing eyes never left her for a second. Finn meant what he said— he sees _everything_. He can pick up on the meanings Rey desperately tried to keep hidden.

“Something tells me he feels the same _exact_ way.”

_Should I even be with someone who does what I do? Who doesn’t necessarily mean to hurt me, but ultimately doesn’t care if they do?_

_But it always comes back to it. I will always be the first to leave— I will leave before I am left. That’s what life has made me into: someone who keeps running._

It was that thought that caused her to stop breathing for a second.

Rey was fairly self-aware when it came to the residual trauma that came with ten years of reoccurring abandonment. She believed she had faced it as much as she would ever need to, and made a conscious effort to compartmentalize those feelings into a box, hidden in the farthest corner of her psyche. It was a box that was meant to be neglected, abandoned at the door when new beginnings opened; it was not lost on her that she and that box were one in the same.

She wanted to forget it. Whenever it must be opened, its sharp, shattered pieces scatter on the floor and cut her, risking the mend she tried to place in those patches; life had broken her, and those pieces were what she hid in that box. She made repairs in the cracks, but she was still left to deal with the jagged, fragile pieces left behind.

She could only take so many cuts before she was left with a deep scar. So why would she open it again and allow Finn to be cut in the process too?

So she cleared her throat and regained the composure she was about to lose.

Her lips were pressed in a tight line. “I need to get the lyrics from him,” she said with the firmness and resolve she knew wasn’t visible on her face.

Her eyes were trained on her lap again, but she could still catch a side-glimpse of Finn’s expression as it shifted. The sympathetic crinkle in his eyes and lop-sided smile were replaced with furrowed, partially raised brows and an alarmed frown.

“Wait, what?”

“He said there were lyrics. He wrote them for this song. I need to get them from him so we can move forward with this.”

Finn scratched the back of his neck and released a breath. “You said he gave this song to you, though. Don’t you have anything we can match with this?”

She thought back to the various bits and pieces, as well as the partial and entire songs scrawled throughout her notebooks. There surely was something in there she could pair with the melody, but none of it felt right. She needed to know the true nature of this song, and nothing else would do.

She shook her head as she stood up. “No, I need to do this. Not just for this record but for me.”

Before she could make her way out of the room, Finn reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Peanut, just... just be careful. You know what’s best for you, but don’t get needlessly hurt from this. Whatever happens, even if we scrap this one, the record will be brilliant. And you matter so much more than a record.”

Something in her chest felt like it was cracking. She swallowed as she her hand on his to remove it, but held it as she turned around responded.

Trying to hide the pooling emotion about to burst, her lips curled into an unconvincing smile.

“Thank you, my dear friend. But I’m afraid both you and the doctor were right: I can’t change what I don’t acknowledge. And something tells me this acknowledgement should have happened years ago.”

He nodded solemnly and looked down. She could tell he had something else to say and it made her feel nauseous.

The sickness was merited, because he then brought up something she deeply wished he had forgotten.

“So what about Poe, then? What does this mean for you two?”

It would have been better to withhold the exasperated groan that came out, but it was too late to do so.

She covered her eyes with her hands. “Nothing. It means nothing for Poe and me. It doesn’t _have_ to mean anything. Poe is great and we can have a wonderful relationship without Ben being part of it.”

He winced and clucked his tongue. “But it’s your feelings about Ben that are there, though.”

Another point raised that pricked her like a needle.

“I’ve been with other people. Those relationships ran their course; my feelings for Ben were never among the reasons they ended.”

“Maybe not consciously, but anytime you’re with someone and know deep down you wish they could be someone else... that’s the beginning of the end, mate.”

Rey knew he was right. Those lovers of the past never stood a chance, really. She did have sincere feelings for most of them, but it ultimately came down to the difference of being in love versus loving someone: being in love is a high that passes, whereas to love someone is a chronic state of devotion that would always be with you— even if you somehow went into remission.

It was the difference between ‘right now’ and ‘forever.’

“Well,” she pushed out, “it’s different with Poe. I really am quite fond of him.”

Even though she had meant it, that she really did feel Poe had the potential to be exceptional, Finn still scrutinized her with his eyes.

“I don’t know, Rey,” he sighed. “This feels strikingly similar to the ‘Getaway Car’ situation.”

It wasn’t funny, but they both chuckled anyway.

_‘You were drivin' the getaway car_

_We were flyin', but we'd never get far_

_Don't pretend it's such a mystery_

_Think about the place where you first met me_

_Ridin' in a getaway car_

_There were sirens in the beat of your heart_

_Should've known I'd be the first to leave_

_Think about the place where you first met me.’_

Poor Stevie. He really was a sweet one, but even the A-List, dazzling, gorgeous Steve Rodgers couldn’t fill the place in her heart that was made for Ben.

And not just because Ben was a very big man and thus occupied so much space.

What she had written for that song was still true even now.

_‘They never get far,_

_No, nothing good starts in a getaway car.’_

But Poe would be different, she decided.

Because she would somehow find a way to leave Ben behind as she went on with Poe.

And to do that, she needed to talk to him.

Or at least she _told_ herself that was why she needed to talk to him.

* * *

_With his arms around your body._

* * *

There was one photo in the toolbox that made Ben’s stomach churn whenever he saw it, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to throw it out.

Rey looked beautiful, of course. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair had been straightened and carefully pressed off to one side, cascading down her bare shoulder. He stood next to her (as usual) and looked... okay enough. They both had been sweaty from walking all day under the warm California sunlight, despite the sun having gone down before the photo was taken; he remembered the black henley shirt he wore did nothing to hide his pit stains, but if Rey noticed she didn’t say anything. She leaned into him and gave the camera one of her dazzling smiles. When they were done taking the photo, the smell of her fruity body spray lingered on his shirt and the air around him as she zipped off to the next spot.

He invited her to join him and his mother for a long weekend during the following summer, the summer of 2013. She would stay in one of the many guest rooms at the house and Ben would take her around town. Despite growing up in gloomy, cool climates her whole life, Rey took to the warmth of the west coast like a sunflower does sunshine. She didn’t even seem bothered by the heinous stench of pollution and waste that hung in the air. She had practically been ten steps ahead of him the entire time, despite having never once step foot down the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Ben rarely spent time in the touristy parts of Los Angeles despite living so close to all of its faux glamour and shoddy city lights, but he knew enough about the town to give Rey a decent tour.

Or so he thought, because as soon as they set off for the day out on the town, Rey was the one taking the lead. She knew each and every spot she wanted to check out: the Hollywood Sign, Rodeo Drive, Venice Beach, the TCL Chinese Theater, Amoeba Music, The Last Bookstore... all the main things she could fit into a long weekend in Los Angeles.

The Hollywood Walk of Fame was a priority for her. She practically had a list of the famous names she’d be looking for in those ugly gray-colored, slippery stones.

Dolly Parton.

Julie Andrews.

The Doors.

Desi Arnaz.

Lucille Ball.

Elvis Presley.

The Beatles.

Patsy Cline.

Britney Spears.

David Bowie.

Garth Brooks.

Aretha Franklin.

Celine Dion.

The Carpenters.

Johnny Cash.

There were others, he was sure, but those were the ones they managed to spot during the trip. He had snapped tons of cute pictures of her posing all around town, kneeling and giving peace signs against some of the famous stars, etc. He even snapped a candid one of Rey practicing her pose and making the duckface expression in front of the mirror in a gift store; she insisted he delete it, and he insisted he did— of course he didn’t, though.

The only part of that excursion Ben enjoyed was being with Rey and seeing how happy she was the entire time. He didn’t know if she was so thrilled because she felt close to the hustle and bustle of stardom or if it was just because she’d never been to California; a tiny part of him hoped it was because she was spending time with him, but either way he was glad she was so pleased.

Ben never understood the appeal of the Walk of Fame. People sing, dance, act, and do behind-the-scenes work all the time— _so what?_ They’re not doing anything that others don’t do each and every day. They’re not helping anyone truly in need; they’re helping themselves become famous and wealthy for doing nothing. And the others, the directors and producers and such— they’re just helping undeserving nobodies get their name on those ugly slabs of concrete.

People like his mother are helping them. She was quite good at it too, so he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if she earned a spot on the walk one day.

In his opinion, most of the people that had their name on one of those stones weren’t even _good_. He felt like if you heard or saw one of them perform, you mostly heard and saw them all. So if there had to be a walkway plastered in the names of performers, he felt the selection could’ve at least been done to a higher standard.

If anyone deserved to have their name there, it’d definitely be Rey.

Despite himself, that acknowledgement was bittersweet. It was true, and who was he to deny the truth? Even if it did strike a nerve, he absolutely knew it was so.

She was almost done recording her debut album.

_‘It has to be ready and it has to be perfect,’ she told him when she got started recording in December 2012. It was during winter break of the past year. Ben came back to Seneca to spend it with his dad... and Rey._

_‘Are you going to publish it somewhere?’ He asked as he knelt down and maneuvered the tangle of wires on the ground. Han allowed Rey to take all of his old equipment back to her house, which served as a generous contribution to her in-home studio she’d been working on over break._

They had been talking about it ever since Ben had gone home that summer, texting back and forth with ideas for the studio... among other things. Those other things being, everything and anything they could think of. After their duet on the old piano, they were inseparable. It was like the shy, awkward tension between them was a cloud that simply drifted away after that, overpowered by the sunshine that presented each one to the other in a whole new light.

After that, they were bound together. Talking to her became natural. Being around her was addicting. Ben could find no reason to hold back at that point, since Rey was so ready to let him in from then on.

He still was smitten, and thought there was a chance she may feel the same. It never went too far, though. He thought she looked over his way for a few extra seconds every now and then; something she wore dresses when they had plans, and maybe even some fruity smelling perfume. She was definitely a touchy-feely type person, too, always pouting for hugs and finding ways to burrow against his side whenever they sat down to watch a movie or something. He wasn’t usually a fan of random affection like that, but he certainly didn’t mind it when it was coming from Rey; he liked it _very_ much, actually. If not too much.

Ben couldn’t let himself believe it meant more than it probably did... _yet_. Things were good for now and he didn’t want to mess anything up or misread the situation. It was beyond attraction at that point: life was better when Rey was in it. The more he knew her, the more he genuinely _liked_ her, beyond the sort of ‘like’ a teen guy feels toward a very cute girl, where a good portion of it is physical attraction and hormones— though he _definitely_ felt that as well.

She was his constant companion, and that was more than enough. Plus, it wasn’t like she was making any major moves to indicate she wanted anything more with him— which was fine, too. She was young, and so was he. They still were getting to know each other, though it felt like they’d known each other their entire lives. He wanted it to work, though. He knew he was serious about her, and would want her to be his serious girlfriend if something were to happen between them. But he didn’t want to pressure her either. Maybe when they’re a bit older. Maybe next summer would be _their_ summer, when she’d be sixteen and he’d be eighteen. But then again, he considered two summers they had spent together thus far as _their_ summers.

He’d like to have her all the summers.

He didn’t want it to be just a summer thing either, though. He hated that there were patches of both his and Rey’s respective lives that the other couldn’t fit into. He wished he and she went to the same school, even just so they could eat lunch together or go to dances or something. He wasn’t much one for dancing, but for her he would.

He wished they could do normal things, like walk to school together or go to a coffee shop to do homework together. When all the kids in the hall saw them walking hand-in-hand, he’d smile as he overheard someone say ‘ _there’s Ben Solo and his girlfriend, Rey! They look so cute together.’_ Or ‘ _Rey’s boyfriend is that guy, Ben. I heard they’re in love._ ’

And if those jerks at Rey’s school gave her a hard time for reading and writing in her journal during lunch, sitting by herself... well, if he were there she wouldn’t be sitting by herself in the first place. But even so, if anyone ever gave her any trouble he’d go right up to them and twist their arm behind their back to make it reach their mouths; that’d shut them up. When the mean girls Rey mentioned would give her those snotty looks, he’d collect her in his arms and tell her how beautiful and perfect she was. He knew she didn’t need him to validate her, but he would be ready to give honest compliments at any moment.

It was all childish, but he couldn’t help but want those things with her. Those were mundane, average things most couples did. But he wanted it, because he wanted Rey to be part of his every day life. They could grow up together, taking on each day and being active parts of the other’s lives.

Because texting, calling, glitchy Skype calls, and bi-annual visits were good, but they didn’t feel like enough.

_Ben had driven them to the Home Depot the day before to pick up some peel-and-stick wall panels used to create a soundproof space, and now they just had to arrange everything to Rey’s liking._

_Rey sighed dreamily as she set her guitar stand next to the stool she’d sit on when playing guitar or singing. She gave Ben a glance over her shoulder and winked. ‘That’s the plan. I don’t know when, I don’t know how— but it’s happening.’_

_Ben just rolled his eyes but said nothing. He knew he could never step in the way of Rey achieving her dreams; he knew she wanted to be a singer. She wanted to be known. And he knew if anyone could do that, it was Rey. And if that’s what she wanted to do, he’d have to support it. Even if he feared he’d lose her as she rose to fame, becoming a bright star galaxies away from him._

Sometimes it felt like whether he supported it or not, he was always at risk of losing her.

And that’s why he hated that photo that he was holding in his hand. Rey didn’t just find her way into stardom: she was hurled into it at full-speed.

By his _mother_ , of all people. His mother, who stood next to Rey in the photo.

His mother, who heard Rey sing while she and Ben played in his house’s grand music room. His mother, who heard her amateur, homemade album and ran it over to her office. He knew he shouldn’t blame her. How could he? He knew Rey was the best of the best, and his mother would be insane to let such fresh, profound talent pass by untouched.

And yet, yes, to an extent he did blame his mother.

His mother, who got Rey her first ever record deal, causing Rey burst off like a shooting star into fame from that point on.

His mother, who oversaw Rey’s career to this day.

And in some ways, it was his mother who took Rey away.

Or, he reconsidered, took him away from Rey.

He threw the photo back into the box after fighting the temptation to tear it up.

He was angry, seeing everything around him in red. He didn’t know who he was angrier at: Rey, Poe, or himself.

It felt like a stab to the heart that Rey was sitting on this major development on her relationship with Poe and chose not to tell him, letting him find out in the worst way instead.

Not only was he instantly in pieces the moment he saw the picture of Rey and Poe, just standing there with Rey’s arms around his shoulders, looking like the triumphant bastard Ben pegged him as being, but it was also humiliating.

He had meant to close one of the numerous Instagram notifications he got from her fans tagging him in things and accidentally opened it instead, seeing the obnoxious post from Buzzfeed that announced their status.

Not only was he about to serve Rey his heart on a porcelaine platter all to be rejected, but Rey hiding it from him felt like the ultimate betrayal. He felt like a fool; he felt like he blindly thought he had been on the inside, but actually was on the outside looking in.

_Why wouldn’t Rey tell me this?_

Above anything and everything, they were _friends_. He trusted her with things he didn’t even trust himself with, and he thought she at least felt the same in that way. But he was wrong.

But no matter how much he tried to justify the heartbreak, it kept coming back full-circle.

It wasn’t Poe’s fault no matter how much he wanted it to be. Poe saw a golden opportunity and took it. All Ben could do was hunger and look on with envy.

When he laid it bare, the hate Ben felt for Poe was just veiled jealousy; not just for having Rey to himself, but because Poe had the courage Ben was only ever _close_ to having.

Which was why he also couldn’t blame Rey, either. He could be mad that she didn’t tell him before — that was fair, he thought— but he couldn’t be mad that she also found the courage to move on, leaving him behind.

Even if she felt a fraction of what he felt for her, she couldn’t wait around forever, just hoping he would make another move. He knew that. He was lucky she came back after any and all hope of that ended for her.

And while the selfish part of him wanted her to wait again, the part that truly loved her didn’t want her to.

Because that part of him knew he had so many other chances and chose not to take them.

That realization caused Ben to take a forceful gulp of his whiskey, followed by an uncomfortable burn that scathed the walls of his throat.

Ben tried to avoid drinking. He had never really had a problem with alcohol, but he knew he could if he let loose of his inhibitions; Han had the habit of doing that for the first summer Ben spent with him after Leia left.

The bottle was easy for Han to pick up, but letting go was something different.

He got back on his feet that same year, quitting cold turkey.

But the seventh summer, when he was served with the divorce papers, it was all shot to hell.

Ben couldn’t forget the way Han’s eyes looked when he was done with the second whiskey bottle; there was nothing there. Ben would’ve thought he was dead, if Han hadn’t been staggering around the house and breathing through his mouth. Because that’s what Ben could see— dead eyes on his living, breathing father.

At that point, Ben had been living with Han, but he may as well have been living on another planet; everything he did to help his father was in vein.

Han wouldn’t allow it, always turning Ben away whenever he tried. It only resulted in tears from both parties, powerless sobs erupting from their respective sides of the house. He suspected Han was reminded too much of his ex-wife when he saw his son’s desperate, pleading eyes.

And so he was eternally grateful that he and his father had good people in their corner. Chewie, Maz, uncle Lando, and a few others stepped in and nipped the blooming relapse in the bud.

Even Rey had been involved, despite the fact that they were no longer speaking at the time; she funded his treatment and broke the silence with a phone call. It was meant only as a checkup, a gesture to assure Ben she wished the best for his father and him. But like everything in their relationship, it was never going to be that simple.

They stayed on the phone for five hours, ending the call with the first and last time they formally, explicitly told the other ‘I love you.’

Han was enrolled in counseling and therapy. It was a rude awakening— much like a hangover— but he found his way back in the end.

But by the end of it, Ben had decided he needed to move out. He couldn’t be there, feeling helpless when his father stumbled over and fell to his lowest whenever he had been struck by the choices his mother made.

So he stayed in Seneca. He struck a deal on an apartment and moved in with a random roommate.

Another thing to be thankful for— Armitage was great, and they remained friends well after Ben moved back to Los Angeles. They still talk and Armitage visits when he can.

But as fantastic of a roommate and friend Armitage was, Ben didn’t like his life without Rey in it. He would commute between the East and West Coast, choosing to be with Rey in the West whenever possible.

It made sense to move there once his half of the lease was to be renewed.

Rey _needed_ him there.

The thought of her all alone in an environment he was very familiar with, especially given the scandalous, vicious climate of it, was too much to bear. She had fended for herself too much, much more than any healthy, happy, well-loved person should ever have to. And he decided he would be there for her; even if he wasn’t in her heart, he would be in her corner.

He had almost lost her twice before; he wouldn’t allow himself to risk a third time.

He didn’t care that his now empty drinking glass had shattered on the hard floor beneath him; it was the second one destroyed as an act of emotion since he found out about Poe, the first being the moment he found out in his music room.

He could always pick up the pieces.

That first time was in anger, but this time was in resolution and adrenaline.

He groomed himself for bed, aggressively brushing his teeth while staring at his own reflection— his adversary.

He would get Rey back. He wouldn’t let anyone come between them again. He’d fight for her. Even though he knew he might not prevail, he knew it was what he had to do.

Even if he didn’t feel like he had the strength to do it.

_I’ll find it,_ he pledged.

_For her, I will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that was a lot. I want to emphasize that a lot of the conflict between Rey and Ben is a residual effect of the unresolved internal conflict they each face. The past is a key facet in this story, both situationally and emotionally. But they will grow from it, and I promise that this is 100% a HEA fic. Though this chapter is a bit heavy, it ends on a hopeful note that I promise is a step in the right direction for these two.

**Author's Note:**

> Song: exile by Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)  
> Lyric:  
> ‘You didn’t even hear me yell.’
> 
> Song: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift  
> Lyric:  
> ‘Look at the Godforsaken mess that you made me,  
> You showed me colors I can’t see with anyone else.’ 
> 
> ‘Look at this idiotic fool that you made me.’ 
> 
> __
> 
> I have no idea how many chapters this will be in total but at the moment it’s giving me 5-chapters vibes


End file.
